


Foul Play

by FanFictionIsMyWeakness



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Bondage, Choking, Degradation, Explicit Sexual Content, General Unhealthy Behavior, I'm sure there's a name for that kink, Just know it's pretty dark, M/M, Power Dynamics, Predator/Prey, REALLY bad communication, Rough Sex, Spanking, Things that the author should be tagging, Unhealthy Obsession, Verbal Humiliation, but idk what it is, established marriage, minor sexism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10030754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFictionIsMyWeakness/pseuds/FanFictionIsMyWeakness
Summary: What amazes Ralph the most is how little he can know about the person he spends most of his time with. But, then again, it's normal for couples to have secrets.Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Hey, Eloise, Don't you think you should finish your other work in progress before starting a new one?" Yes, I absolutely should, but honestly the writing of Cemetery Sentiments is very slow going. I have all the exciting stuff written so now I just need to find a good way to wrap it up. Don't worry, the last chapter will be up.... Soon? Eventually? Something like that. Until then, please enjoy this new Jalph thing I've been working on for a long while that will also be a multiple chapter work in progress.

Upon entering his earliest childhood years, Ralph had already begun to develop a some what strange and perhaps rather outdated habit of reading the news paper every morning. During his time as a child, he had come a realization that there was no practical need for newspapers in his modern, twenty-first century life, but he had also realized that as a child with too much energy and too little attention, he needed something to occupy is mind while he ate breakfast without destroying it entirely, like his parents feared a television might do. Thus, the mildly bizarre habit transferred into his adulthood, even after his attention problem had been cured with prescription pills and his relentless need to be constantly entertained had started to fade away. Ralph was not one to break his routine, after all, and even though there was no practicality behind having The Daily Telegraph delivered to his doorstep every morning, it caused his day to day life no harm. So he continued reading up on the news in his old fashioned way, as a means to both keep his mind occupied as he enjoyed a bowl of Shreddies and to stay informed on his community.

 

Living in a rather crime ridden town in Southern England did happen to have it's perks every now and again, for the news stories were always impeccably fascinating, with constant headlines stating the gruesome details of new murders popping up along expressways and alleys surrounding the shopping districts. Most of them time, the bodies found belonged to prostitutes or other people working the night life just to scrape enough money together to make ends meet and Ralph often felt bad for the poor girls who somehow got mixed up in more trouble than they ever imagined. Recently, there had been findings of similar murders all occurring within close together areas, which made the local police force believe all the crimes had been committed by the same person. The fair boy took amusement in keeping up with the stories, making sure to always excitedly inform his husband about them, giving him any and all new details that had been discovered.

 

“It's bloody madness, Jack!” He'd exclaim as his red headed husband fixed himself a second cuppa. Jack would grin and roll his eyes, stirring a spoonful of sugar into the coffee. “Every victim's body has been found dumped in the Marshes, all people in their twenties with blonde hair and either blue or green eyes. Maybe I'll be next.” Jack scoffed, taking a sip of his drink and drumming his fingers against the kitchen table.

 

“Doubtful,” He quipped, rolling his eyes once again. “I've seen the pictures of the victims, gruesome things those are, and frankly you're _much_ prettier than any of them. Besides, haven't they only found lasses, anyway?”

 

“Well, mostly, but there have been a few blokes here and there, and they've all been found bloody and pale and _dead_. I don't think I'd look my best, either, if I were under those conditions.” Ralph shot back, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He enjoyed their morning banter filled with back handed insults and spiteful words with no real bite behind them. Those types of conversations were the reason the fair boy felt he had found his match. Jack hummed, downing the last bit of his cuppa in a single gulp before standing from his place at the table.

 

“I have to get to work, love.” He said, wiping a drop of coffee from the corner of his mouth. Ralph stood, too, pressing the palms of his hands flat against his husband's chest.

 

“Must you?” He asked, eyes glistening with false innocence. The tips of their noses brushed together slightly as the fair boy stood on the tips of his toes to be eye level with his ridiculously tall lover. He longed to press their lips together, to bruise those thin lips with his own in a never ending kiss. He traced circles into the fabric of Jack's work shirt with the tip of his index finger, imagining little red lines on the white fabric. “I was thinking you could call in today and spend the day with me?” He blinked, glancing up to stare into Jack's eyes. He smoothed his hand over the other's shoulder, listening to the slight hitch in his husband's breath. “We could go back to bed, if you'd like.”

 

Jack sighed, gently pushing Ralph's hands away, making the fair boy's face break into a slight pout. “You know how much I would love to, babe, but I can't.” He place a sweet, chaste kiss to his husband's lips, full and pink and tasting of sunshine and tea. “I promise, we can do whatever you want when I get home.” Ralph sighed, stepping away from him, creating a comfortable distance between their bodies.

 

“Jack,” He started, trying to make his words sound as pathetic as possible. Maybe if he were sad enough, he could convince his husband to stay. “I have gotten to touch you in what feels like _months_ and you're always so tired from work you never want to do anything when you get home.” He paused, trying to suppress the mischievous grin from tugging at his lips. He took a step closer, suddenly too close and he could feel the ginger's breath against his cheek, warm and heavy. “You could at least be late, yeah? I could suck you off right here. I'll even fuck me on the kitchen table, like I know how much you long to do.”

 

“Ralph,” He started, breath flushed and cheeks dusting pink.

 

“Please, babe,” Ralph begged, taking another step closer so that their chests were pressed flush together. “You haven't touch me in _so long_ , I bet I'm _so tight_ , like a virgin.” Jack snorted, cupping Ralph's cheek in the palm of his hand.

 

“Bullshit,” He said, now so close, close enough to kiss. “I know you stretch yourself, working your ass on that pretty blue dildo you bought yourself, pretending it's my dick. You're a little whore, aren't ya?” His face had darkened, making a shiver run up Ralph's spine, a warmth spreading through his lower body and flushing his cheeks red. He almost smirked at the fact that Jack was giving in, but quickly restrained himself.

 

“It's never as good as you, though,” He moaned slightly, voice breathy and just a bit higher than usual. Jack's hands gripped his waist, tight around the delicate skin, fingers digging bruises into golden flesh. He brushed their lips together in a ghost of a kiss, rolling his hips up to meet his husband's.

 

“Maybe I will let you suck me off,” He muttered, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against Ralph's own. “Would you like to choke on my cock, pretty boy?” Ralph groaned, wishing for their lips to meet, to feeling Jack's tongue rolling into his mouth like a wave.

 

“Yes, please, anything.” He groaned, rolling his hips in and attempt to gain some sort of friction. Jack inched closer, so close to a kiss, so close to their lips colliding with affection.

 

“Too bad,” His whispered, making Ralph's brows knit together as more and more space came between them. “Because I have to get to work.” The fair boy groaned in complaint, throwing his head back dramatically. His husband turned to go, shrugging on his suit jacket and heading toward the front door of their flat. Ralph grabbed his wrist, making Jack turn to stare at him, one fiery brow quirked in surprise.

 

“Just,” The fair boy paused, seeming to get lost in those stupid light blue eyes. He huffed, mentally shaking himself at how much he was acting like a teenager. “Promise we'll get to tonight, okay?” Jack waved him off, turning toward the door again.

 

“Yeah, yeah, you'll get the best fuck of your life tonight, golden boy.”

 

“I mean it, Jack. Don't be home late again.” Jack sighed, turning his body fully and wrapping his arms around his husband's waist. He kissed the top of Ralph's head, his body always so much shorter than Jack's own, and rested his chin on top of those soft blond locks.

 

“I promise, okay?” He murmured, unable to keep the snark out of his words. Ralph lightly punched him in the side. “Ow, Jesus fuck, fine. I'll be home at exactly six o'clock and no later to shag your brains out, are you happy?” Ralph grinned, pulling away from him with the shit eating smile plastered on his face.

 

“Very happy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jack was, in fact, _not_ home at exactly six o'clock that night. Nor had he made it back to their flat by seven or eight and by the time nine rolled around, Ralph was so tired and frustrated that he decided to give up waiting for his husband to return and just go to bed. He left dinner on the counter, cold and untouched, and practically fell into bed. He could feel the scowl creasing his features, the snarl forming on his lips and his nerves jittering with aggravation. Honestly, Ralph wasn't sure what he expected any more. He was _so_ used to this, so used to Jack making empty promises he would never keep and being left disappointed and emotional, like some sort of boring housewife from the fifties, waiting for her husband to return home from his many affairs. Ralph scoffed bitterly at the thought, having already come to the conclusion that his husband was having an affair long ago, but being too optimistic to believe it to be true. Sure, Jack often came home late and sure they hadn't been intimate in a while, but somehow Ralph had always managed to convince himself that that wasn't necessarily proof of infidelity. He sighed, drifting off to sleep with that angry, bitter thought stuck in his mind. He was such a fool.

 

He was awoken once again to the sound of their front door slamming shut and Jack's angry footsteps stomping up to their bedroom. He sat up, pushing the blond locks out of his face and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He groaned, seeing that it was nearly three o'clock in the morning and his husband was just _now_ returning home. He glared at the door, just _waiting_ for that prick to build up the nerve to walk through it, and praying he'd have the strength to chew the ginger out. Ralph watched with a scowl plastered on his face as the door knob began to turn, Jack slowly pushing the wooden door open as if he were trying his best not to wake the fair boy.

 

“Six o'clock my ass.” Ralph said, putting as much bite in his words the fair boy could muster the second he spotted those bright orange curls. Jack stood still, dumbfounded for a moment.

 

“Didn't know you were still up,” He said, voice gruff and low. “Something came up.”

 

“For nine hours?”

 

“Yeah.” Ralph paused, taking a deep, shaky breath before allowing himself to speak again. The last thing he wanted was to start screaming.

 

“You could have called.” He whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, it would be a shriek. Jack shrugged nonchalantly, running a hand through those damned red curls.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Did you eat?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Guess I made dinner for nothing.”

 

“Sorry.” Ralph had begun to realise that the more an apology was spoken, the less meaning it held behind it. He sighed, laying back down, every cruel word he could think to say buzzing through his head, unable to come out. Instead, all his managed to say was

 

“Okay.” Jack paused, taking a step closer to their bed, shrugging off his suit jacket and loosening his tie.

 

“Are you mad at me?”

 

“No.” Ralph lied, any energy he had stored for a fight having completely disappered. He just wanted to sleep and forget this night ever happened.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Okay.” He heard Jack's sigh from across he room, exasperated and desperate. It made a twisted part of Ralph smile, just a bit.

 

“I'm not cheating on you, if that's what you think.” Ralph froze, his pulse having increased rapidly. He didn't want to have this discussion, didn't want to deal with talking about infidelity. He wanted to continue living in his world of naive bliss, still thinking his husband was faithful and loving, regardless of the signs that proved otherwise. Being ignorant was the only thing Ralph had left and he wouldn't let Jack take that way from him, too. He stood then, wrapping his arms around himself as tears began to prick the corners of his eyes. He began heading for the bedroom door.

 

“Sure you're not.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Out.”

 

Ralph brushed past him, their shoulders bumping together slightly Jack stiffened upon the contact, muscles tightening as his had reached out to grasp the fair boy's wrist. Ralph huffed loudly, snatching his had away from his husband's touch, turning his body around to sneer at the other man. They stared at each other for a while, Jack's icy blue eyes unreadable in the darkness.

 

“Ralph,” Jack breathed, desperation coating his words. The fair boy continued to stare at the man in front of him, every nerve in his body freezing over with cold _hatred_. Suddenly, the sound of Jack's voice made his stomach churn. But he didn't move from his spot, didn't allow his voice to say anything as he waited for some sort of explanation. Jack hesitated, catching his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration.

 

“Don't leave.” His voice sounded broken and desperate, making a wave of pity crash into Ralph's emotions. He reached up to touch Jack's cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking over his husband's sharp cheekbone. He stepped closer to the other man, close enough for the tips of their noses to brush together as Jack's hands rested on the fair boy's waist, thumbs tracing circles into delicate hipbones.

 

“I'll stay,” He whispered, any previous traces of anger having left his voice. Jack let out a shaky breath of relief, a slight squeak that made Ralph's heart melt. “If you tell me what's going on.” His husband paused, all movement having stopped. The golden boy could see as every muscle in Jack's body tightened, the grip around his waist squeezing his soft skin hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. Although Ralph couldn't make out many features of his face, he was sure his husband's face had darkened.

 

“I can't,” He murmured, making the fair boy retract his hand, fingers curling into frustrated fists. “I wish I could but, I can't.” Ralph nodded, wiggling free from Jack's grip and stepping away from the ginger. He nodded slowly, eye line directed at the carpeted floor.

 

“Okay.” He whispered, not bothering to lift his head and meet the other's gaze. “Then I'm going to leave for a few days-”

 

“No, Ralph, please-” Jack started, his plea desperate as he attempted to reach out and touch the fair boy. Ralph merely avoided his advances, flinching away from his fingers.

 

“-And stay with Simon. I need time, Jack.” He watched in agony as those fiery brows drew together, thin lips turning down into a scowl. Everything about this hurt him, crushed his heart to pieces as he tried to stop himself from choking on the lump in his throat. “Time to think.” Every word out of his mouth got quieter and quieter as the fair boy focused all his energy into blinking back tears.

 

“Ralph, baby, please, don't go,” Jack started, stepping closer to the fair boy, reaching out to touch his cheek. The fair boy let him, even going so far as to lean into the touch. A small, twisted part of him enjoyed hearing the pain and desperation in Jack's voice, enjoyed that he was making this man suffer. “I don't have work tomorrow, we can spend the day together, just the two of us. You want that, yeah? To spend time together?” Ralph shrunk into himself, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to appear as small as possible. He nodded, watching as a slight grin tugged at Jack's lips. “We can do that,” He continued, his thumb brushing over the fair boy's bottom lip. “We can do whatever you want.”

 

On an impulse, Ralph leaned forward to capture those thin lips in a kiss, one hand threading through locks of fiery orange curls as the other cupped his husband's angular face. He let his fingers trace the outline of Jack's jaw, memorizing ever curve and sharp angle of his bone structure as he felt a pair of sharp teeth pull his bottom lip hungrily. Jack's hands clamped around his waist, thumbs digging into the divots of his hipbone harshly, making the fair haired lad cry out and press his body closer to his husband. He could hear every flutter of his heartbeat pound in his ears, Jack's hot breath ghosting over his skin as hungry kisses pressed into his neck. The pressure of Jack's body was pushing him back, forcing his feet to move and his back to hit the wall. His husband's forearm slammed against the space between the crown of his head and the soft curve of his shoulders, pinning him into place and making the fair boy whimper, face flushed as the feeling of Jack's lips and teeth and tongue against his skin set his entire body ablaze. Everything about Jack was hungry and desperate, pouring out anger and hate in each heated touch as Ralph keened, bending to his each and every whim.

 

“Jack,” he panted, eye glazing over with heat and desire. He tugged slightly at those fiery curls, trying to draw him closer, to make their bodies meld into one. It had been too long since he'd gotten to touch Jack like this, too long since he'd had his body worshiped like a God, felt as though he were being completely taken care of. Perhaps that was a bit selfish on his part, to always be the one being treated like a treasure -to be something precious and rare that Jack couldn't seem to get enough of as he whispered words of encouragement into the fair boy's ear. But he couldn't help liking it, liking that he felt so cherished and important whenever Jack touched him like this, couldn't help liking the primal look of _need_ in his husband's face. He always got so intense whenever they were intimate, as if being together was a _competition_ that Jack needed to win. Ralph felt so small in his arms, so young and foolish as his husband worshiped every part of his body, kissed every inch of golden tanned skin, sucking bruises as if to tell the world _mine_. Sharp teeth dug into the skin of his neck, making the fair boy _scream_ , his body jolting with a shock of pleasure as he clawed at his husband's back, praying to whatever God was listening that the neighbors couldn't hear. “Jack, please,” He cringed at how broken his voice sounded, how weak Jack seemed to make him whenever they stumbled into this position.

 

“I know baby,” Jack murmured against the skin of his shoulder, placing feather light kisses on the skin there. “I got you, don't worry. I'll take care of you.” Ralph flushed, letting his delicate fingers smooth over the broad curves of Jack's shoulders, digging into the fabric of his shirt, bunching up the material into his fists. His let his fingertips slide down his husband's chest, working at the buttons on his work shirt. He managed to get two buttons undone before Jack let out and _animalistic_ growl, tightening his fingers around Ralph's wrists and slamming the fair boy's hands against the wall, just ever so slightly above his head. A shiver ran through the golden boy's spine as he let out a pathetic, broken whimper, his hands trembling at Jack's touch. He bucked his hips, rutting slightly at his husband's thigh, squeezing his eyes shut and curling his fingers into tight fists. Jack's lips tugged up into a smirk, releasing his tight grip on Ralph's hands and letting his fingertips slowly glide down the skin of his arms, causing goose flesh to prick golden skin.

 

“Love you,” Ralph breathed, rutting his front over Jack's thigh, every nerve in his body trembling with a mix of fear and desire. His husband grinned, cupping the fair boy's groin through the thin fabric of his pajama bottoms, rubbing him slightly and eliciting a high pitched moan.

 

“Love you, too.” Jack murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to the side of his neck. Ralph felt like the heat on his body was enough to make him explode as his husband's touch allowed his body to ignite, a ticking heat pulsating the center of his core and begging itself to explode. He felt those thin lips tilt up into a smirk, pulling against the tan skin of the fair boy's neck, making him crave the feeling of teeth scraping against his body. Everything about Jack screamed _power,_ screamed _assertive_ , screamed _dominance_ , and it made Ralph tremble, as if this man towering above him, spreading heat through his body and causing him to come completely undone, was about to eat him _alive_. There was an aspect of that ideology that the fair boy found terrifying, as if his husband could do anything he wanted and there was nothing in Ralph's power to stop him, but mostly it was enthralling. Jack's hand squeezed and the golden boy arched, grinding himself against his husband's warm palm, broken and pathetic moans escaping his lips.

 

“You're so beautiful like this, you know?” Jack said, taking Ralph's chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting his head slightly to stare into his eyes. His tongue ran over those thin lips, a hungry light in his eyes that made the fair boy want nothing more than to press their mouths together, to allow Jack to completely control him for the rest of the night. He leant down, nosing at the golden tanned skin of Ralph's neck, his warm breath ghosting over the fair boy as he spoke. “Get on your knees for me.”

 

It was so _demanding_ , so _scary_ , that Ralph couldn't stop his body from reacting, couldn't stop himself from kneeling down in front of his husband, as if ready to pray to him. Granted, he had always quiet liked this part, the part where he got just a taste of control, just a glimpse of watching Jack come undone before his throat was fucked raw and until he couldn't breathe. Not to mention getting to _taste_ Jack, getting to be so incredibly close to him in such a lewd and unholy way sent chills through his spine. And perhaps the same could be said for the act of fucking itself -or really anything sort of sexual antics they got up to- but Ralph had always found something different about having Jack in his mouth, feeling his husband's weight on his tongue as he got to suck greedily like it was a lolli. Or perhaps it was just his mind making things out to be more than they were, and there was nothing especially dirty about taking Jack's cock in his mouth instead of his hand or his arse, but regardless, he really loved taking his husband in his mouth.

 

He pressed kisses to the front of Jack's work pants, teasing slightly as the grip on his hair tightened with impatience. Ralph grinned, knowing that until Jack was in his mouth, the fair boy held all the control, and he intended to _milk_ it, even if it meant more punishment later. He ran the flats of his palms up the insides of his husband's thighs, just over the fabric of his trousers, fingers dancing dangerously close to his groin. Jack huffed, clearly frustrated and determined to get to the main event, but Ralph figured it was time his husband learnt a thing or two about patience. He slowly undid the belt buckle, long, nimble fingers easily sliding it out of the loops and dropping it on the ground. He paused slightly, glancing up to stare at Jack, a devious grin written across his face.

 

“If you're lucky I'll let you spank me with it later, yeah?” Ralph said, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he let his fingertips ghost over his husband's fly, hearing the sharp intake of breath before a long, low groan.

 

“You're trying to kill me, aren't ya?” Jack asked, a light dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ralph felt a little bubble of pride swell in chest, loving the fact that he could get Jack just as undone as he was. He shrugged, sitting back on his heels and staring up at the other man, trying to look as innocent as he possibly could in that position.

 

“We'll see.” He caressed the bulge in his husband's pants, cupping him fully through the fabric as his other hand undid the button. He kissed Jack's hipbone, letting his teeth scrape over the skin ever so gently and taking immense pride in the sounds escaping his husband's lips. He let his hand palm Jack's bulge gently, fingers barely ghosting over the fabric of his trousers and undergarments, letting his lips trail over his husband's belly, down his hips, and just beginning to ghost over hid groin. He tugged the trousers down, releasing a big of strain on the significant tent in Jack's boxer-shorts, as the fabric pooled around his husband's ankles. He licked a stripe up the length of the redhead's dick through the thin, polyester material as he felt thin, wiry fingers curl into his hair. His hands trailed up the sides of Jack's thighs as he sucked at the outline of the head, forcing a sharp tug on his hair from the man above him.

 

Ralph glanced up at him, meeting intense, icy blue eyes that seemed to tear into him like daggers, as if say _stop teasing_. The fair boy grinned a cheeky sort of smirk before he hooked his thumbs in the waist band of his husband's boxers and tugged them down creamy white thighs. Almost out of instinct, the blond boy licked his lips at the sight before him, eyes trained on Jack's cock, flushed and red with a drop of precum glistening the tip. He wrapped his hand around the shaft, stroking slowly with just a brush of his fingertips, eliciting a groan from the man above him. He leant forward, wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking it into his mouth, his tongue running collecting the bead of precum. Jack's nails dug into his scalp, scratching at the skin there almost painfully.

 

“Come one, take me, baby. I know you can do it.” He growled, making Ralph hum in satisfaction. He enjoyed making Jack come undone like this, enjoyed hearing his soft grunts of pleasure as he urged the blond boy on with a tug of his hair. Ralph would have grinned if he could, taking Jack in further, running his tongue along the underside of the shaft and hollowing his cheeks. He bobbed his head, wrapping his right hand around the base of his husband's cock and pumping as his tongue swirled the tip like a lollipop, eliciting another deep, throaty moan from Jack. He took this as inspiration to take the man above him all the way, the tip of his nose brushing the red headed man's pelvis as the tip hit the back of his throat, making him gag slightly. He looking up at Jack, brows creased and eyelids fluttered shut, thin lips slightly parted and letting out low, ragged breaths. Ralph swallowed around him, causing a struggled gasp escape those lips, back arching slightly as he bucked into the blond boy's throat. Ralph groaned around him, letting Jack fuck his throat, hands holding his head in place as a thick cock slid over his tongue and hit the back of his throat.

 

Jack came without so much as a tug on the hair for warning, not allowing the golden boy to pull off as he was forced to swallow the other's genetic fluids. Ralph continued to swallow around him until he had milked Jack completely, sucking slightly at the tip before pulling off entirely. He sat back on his heels, looking up into those icy blue eyes expectantly, as if to ask _did I do good_? Jack stared back, his expression hardened and cold, a look Ralph had become all too familiar with in their years together. The thought send butterflies through his stomach.

 

“Wipe your mouth, you look like a whore.” His voice was filled with stony indifference, eyes an eerie blue, and Ralph suddenly became away of the repulsive mix of drool and cum dripping from the corner of his mouth and down to his chin. He quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand, letting his gaze cast to the floor as he felt the familiar heat of a blush spread across his cheeks.

 

“Stand up.” Jack ordered and a weird sense of obedience filled the blond boy's core, forcing his body to stand almost roboticly. He felt his husband's arms wrap around his waist, pulling them flush together as a pair of lips attacked his own, the kiss hungry and desperate as long, nimble fingers clamped down around his hips. His hand cupped Jack's face, pulling them as close together as possible as he gladly opened his mouth to allow his husband's tongue to enter. He felt himself being pinned to the wall again, his back pressed against the plaster uncomfortably and his husband's forearm resting next to the side of his head.

 

“Jack,” he breathed, panting, his eyes no doubt blown wide with desire. Jack's lips trailed down his neck, just barely brushing the skin and making him shiver with goose flesh. He squirmed slightly, like and impatient child, but his body was quickly pinned between the wall and his husband, unable to move.

 

“I'm gonna fuck you tonight,” Jack panted, a dark, wild sort of hunger in his eyes that made Ralph's breath catch. “I'll bend you over my knee and spank you until that pretty arse is red and raw, I'll tie you up so you can't move, so you can't get away from me.” For a moment, the blond boy was tempted to _cry_ from relief and want and arousal all in one because _yes_ , he wanted that, wanted Jack to take him and own his body for the rest of the night. He loved those filthy words spilling from his husband's tongue, loved all the sin and scandal and he wanted to hear _more._

 

“What else will you do to me?” He tried to force his voice to sound innocent, as though he had never heard such things before, as though he didn't already know. Jack grinned, that damned devilish smirk that always had Ralph swooning and he felt his knees go weak.

 

“I'm gonna make you scream so loud you'll wake up the whole block, make you beg and whimper and make all those cute little noises you love to make when you want me, fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk properly tomorrow., tighten my hand around your pretty little neck and leave bruises in the shapes of my fingers.” His voice sent shivers down Ralph's spine, his face flushing with heat and his body tingling with arousal. He snagged his lower lip between his teeth, eyes wide and locked on his husband's smug, absolutely devilish expression. For a moment, he let his mind wander, imagining those fiery orange curls atop Jack's head to be small devil horns, a chord-like tail emerging from his tailbone, and the fires of hell blazing in his eyes. The image was so cartoonish and ridiculous that Ralph had to stifle a grin and an embarrassing giggle. There was a pause between them, the kind where no one made a move as their heavy breaths mingled together. It took the fair boy a moment to realize that this was no accident, nor was it a pause to build the sexual tension, but rather Jack was waiting for the affirmative to continue. Well, Ralph could give him that much.

 

“Please,” he murmured, trying to shrink himself to look as small and vulnerable as possible, just the way his husband liked it. “Hurt me.” It was all it took for Jack to be on him, shark teeth sinking into the tender crook of his neck, strong hands digging harshly into his hips bones, lifting him against the plaster, so much so he had to wrap his legs around Jack's waist, supported by nothing but the wall behind him and his lover's brute strength. He gasped loudly, thighs quivering as his arms held on tightly to Jack's shoulders. He threw his head back, allowing as much access to his neck as possible as a pair of lips attached themselves to his pulse point. For a moment, Ralph's mind wandered to just how _bad_ the marks would be in the morning, wondering if he had anything important coming up where he'd need to cover them up. Jack's hand palming the bulge in his pajama bottoms quickly pulled him out of those thoughts, however, the thin material making it so he could feel _every movement._

 

He felt his back leave the wall, his body slowly sliding from Jack's grasp as he scrambled to reattain his balance. He feet found the carpeted floor, but only for a moment before he was forcefully pinned to the bed in the center of the room, Jack's heavy breath against his skin, hips ruthlessly rutting against his own. Ralph whimpered, digging his fingers into his husband's shoulders, bunching the fabric of that crisp, white button down in his hands, only two buttons undone. He felt his husband harden against him, the stamina of that man having always been something of amazement to the fair boy, the sort of gift he would never question but always be thankful for. Ralph squeezed his knees around Jack's waist, pulling him closer, feeling his warmth radiate off both their bodies as their lips worked together in sloppy, desperate kisses.

 

“Jack,” he breathed, voice broken and pathetic, nothing more than a slight whimper that had his lover grinning.

 

“Say my name again,” his breath ghosted over Ralph's skin; the words sending a jolt of electricity through his spine as head pooled low in his abdomen. “Just like that, like I'm all you can think about.” The fair boy whimpered, bucking his hips up in a desperate search for friction.

 

"Jack," He whispered, making his husband grin. 

 

“I'll be right back, baby, stay there.”

 

Ralph whined as he felt the heat of Jack's body detach from his own, leaving him shivering and unsatisfied. He propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes following his husband's every move as those slim fingers unbuttoned the rest of his dress shirt and slid the fabric off his slim shoulders, revealing patches of pale, freckled skin. He glanced back at Ralph, his eyes cool and calculating, one eyebrow quirked almost smugly, his lips twitching up in the beginnings of a smirk. He ran a hand through his fiery curls and rolled his shoulders back, making the joints make a hideous _crunch_ sound. Ralph ran his tongue over his lips, watching Jack's muscles ripple ever so slightly under his skin. His eyes flicked back up to his husband's face, cocky and smug and everything that had drawn the fair boy to him in the first place. He swallowed thickly, unable to take his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

 

Jack's lips were on his again, finger hooked in the waistband of his pajama bottoms, tugging them down his thighs recklessly. Ralph mewled, bucking up his hips almost instinctively as his husband retook his place settles between his thighs. The fair boy ran his fingers through those ginger curls, tugging slightly and making the man moving above him grunt and rut their hips together.

 

“Want it,” Ralph panted, lips swollen and kiss bitten, golden blond hair messy and blue eyes wild with desire. “Want you inside me, want it to _hurt_.” the grin that stretched across his husband's lips was probably the scariest thing Ralph had ever encountered and it made his heart race with need. He felt those long, nimble fingers -cold and slick with lube- begin to prod at his rim, rubbing slow, teasing circles along the ring of muscles. Ralph hissed and arched his back, trying to angle his body just enough to get those fingers to slip inside. Jack grinned at him, ever so arrogant and smug, before hushing him with a few sweet kisses. When they're lips broke apart, the fair boy let out a pathetic, broken whimper, as if his heart had just shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

 

“Impatient, are we?” Jack teased and the fair boy couldn't seem to find the words to reply, making his husband chuckle. He stroked Ralph's cheek with his free hand, still rubbing slow, teasing circles with his lube-slicked fingers around the blond's rim. “You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, faces so close that his breath ghosted over Ralph's lips. “When you submit to me like this, when you're on your back begging and whining like a good little bitch. You're such a whore for me, aren't you?” Ralph couldn't seem to find his breath, the words catching in his throat as humiliation clouded his thoughts. He felt his skin burn as that familiar jolt of electricity shot up his spine, making his entire body buzz with gratifying energy. Jack cocked his head to the side, that same cold, calculating look written across his features.

 

“Say that you want me.” He ordered, pushing the tips of his two fingers past Ralph's rim, making the fair boy suck in a breath. He began making scissoring motions, stretching the smaller of the two open, just barely brushing by Ralph's prostate. He whined, pushing back on Jack's fingers to try and take _more_. It was like getting a taste, just a sample of that wonderfully full feeling, but not enough to satisfy and Ralph groaned out of complaint, frustrated and worked up beyond words.

 

“I want you,” he said, voice uneven and breathy, too focused on the movements of Jack's fingers and the need for more. “Jack, please,” he tried, because he couldn't stand the teasing, couldn't stand the wait any longer. His husband hummed, curling his fingers in a _come here_ motion, prodding at the fair boy's prostate and making him gasp and arch into the touch. “Please, I need you.”

 

Without warning, the fair felt himself being flipped onto his stomach, making him lose his balance and awkwardly flail at the sheets, Jack scoffing behind him. “You're cute,” he murmured into Ralph's ear, threading his fingers into the blond hairs at the back of his head. He shoved the fair boy's face into the pillows and rocked into him easily, stretching him out and creating that deliciously full feeling, reaching every part of him that he wanted. Ralph gasped, bucking back upon instinct as Jack rolled his hips forward, bracing his free hand on the mattress next to his husband's shoulder. He snapped his hips up, making the back rock as the frame hit the wall and Ralph let out a broken, embarrassing moan. “Fuck,” Jack mumbled, most likely to himself. “You're still so tight.” Ralph's breath caught in his throat for the umpteenth time, his thighs quivering and he knew this wouldn't last much longer. He rocked back on Jack's hips, meeting his thrusts as his husband's cock brushed by his prostate. He could hear the animalistic grunts next to his ear, the hand in his hair tightening as his fingers shook with a need for release. He felt so built up, like he was ready to explode, and with another expert roll of Jack's hips, he was gone. His body spasmed, every muscle in his being quaking with desire and relief and everything else in between as he felt Jack spill inside him, cursing softly under his breath.They collapsed on the bed, both panting and spent as Jack rolled off of him and onto his back.

 

“Are you good?” He asked, voice still breathy and exhausted. Ralph hummed in affirmation, curling up on his side and facing his husband. He grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

 

“It was good,” he assured and Jack's face softened slightly. “Give me ten minuets before the next round.” He watched as those fiery red brows creased in confusion, lips pressing together slightly and light blue eyes searching his face for an elaboration. “You promised you'd tie me up, after all.” Ralph clarified and watched in a smug satisfaction as Jack's look of confusion morphed into a devilish grin.

 

“I did say that, didn't I?”

 

* * *

 

By the time they had finished and Jack was snoring softly, Ralph still found himself in a sleepless conundrum. Still, he had no idea why his husband had come home so late, nor was he sure why he couldn't be bothered to call or _explain_ what kept him so long and that nagging feeling at the back of the fair boy's mind kept telling him it was proof of infidelity. He glanced back at his sleeping husband, so peaceful and lost in a world of dreams, and he felt a pang of hurt in his chest, wondering who it was that had caught his attention in a way Ralph couldn't. Slowly, as if not to wake him, the fair boy pushed back the covers and crept out of bed, pulling on a pair of black joggers, a green jumper, and his favorite black _Rolling Stones_ t-shirt and grabbed his phone before heading out of the bedroom, already dialing the number he knew all too well. Surprisingly, he dearest friend picked up.

 

“Hey Simon, I know it's early but can I ask you a favour?” His friend yawned on the other end of the line and mumbled an affirmative. “Do you think I can stay with you for a day or two? I'm having some.... problems with Jack. Yeah, I'll explain when I get there. Okay, yeah, see you soon then.”

 

Ralph was out the door soon with nothing but the clothes on his back, his car keys, and his phone. He was in such a rush, in fact, that he didn't notice the blood that splattered the sitting room walls.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: There are some sexist comments in this chapter and I just want to say that I, as the author, do not condone that sort of language or behavior. Just because a character that I've written thinks or acts a certain way doesn't mean that I personally think or act a certain way. Obviously sexism is awful and I don't have sympathy for misogynists, but that doesn't mean a character I've written will feel the same way. 
> 
> ALSO
> 
> There are mentions of Rogermon in this chapter and I promise that will not be a significant ship in the rest of the story, nor will Roger and Simon be main characters. However, their mention was necessary for the progression of the story.

There was no doubt that woman was beautiful, her honey blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in glorious golden curls, her frame slim and tall, with a narrow waist and delicate looking hips, her thighs smooth and creamy, almost entirely exposed in the short, figure flattering dress that seemed to cling to every curve of her body. Her lips were painted a rich, dark red and thick coats of black mascara covered her long eyelashes. The strappy, high-healed shoes on her feet looked horrifically uncomfortable, and she seemed to be standing with an awkward sort of limp, her back pressed to the brick wall of the alley in an attempt to take some of the weight off her aching feet. It was a cold night to be standing outside in such revealing attire, that dress nothing more than a thin piece of fabric that hardly covered the tops of his thighs, and perhaps if the sun had been up, one would've been able to make out the goose flesh decorating her smooth, pale skin.

 

Although she was beautiful, it wasn't her pretty figure or her long blonde hair that drew Jack to her. It was those eyes, those round, deep blue eyes, big and doe-like, glistening with an almost childlike curiosity, a wonderment that proved her to be young and naive. They held a heavy sadness behind them, a regretful burden that she was being forced to carry the weight of all hours of the day. Perhaps it was from working the night life, from spending hours upon hours bathed in moonlight and hiding in back alleys, just waiting for her next customer in sullen silence. She had a lit cigarette between her fingers when Jack spotted her, the smoking rising into the air as ash burned off the end. The smell of tobacco surrounded her, clouding Jack's senses as he approached. She took too long to spot him, either too wrapped up in her own sadness or too dense to pay attention to her surroundings. Either way, it made the man coming her way grin devilishly.

 

She pushed herself off the wall, stamping out her cigarette under the platform of her shoe as she absentmindedly fluffed her hair. She glanced back at Jack, a sultry smile stretching across those dark red lips, her stunning blue eyes glistening with a dread for her next client. He glanced over her, eyes trailing slowly across her body as he assessed her form. She only grinned back at him.

 

“Hey stranger,” she purred and Jack almost wanted to cringe at the desperate attempt to sound sexy, her voice too high pitched, too shaky. “What'll it be?” She snagged her lips between her teeth, looking up at him through her eyes lashes and trying to make her seem as submissive and doll-like as possible. Jack had to physically restrain himself from retching in repulsion. Instead, he leant his palm against the wall, trapping her body between his own and letting his lips quirk up in his best smirk.

 

“Depends,” he said, putting his best effort to sound as charming as possible, ignoring every fiber in his body telling him to leave it alone, to go home to his wonderful husband and enjoy dinner together. It was only 7:00, he could still make it home without much of a fuss. But he couldn't, not when those eyes were so trained on him. “How much will it cost?”

 

“Three hundred pounds an hour.” She stated, rather directly, and Jack wasn't entirely sure whether to laugh or feel bad for her. Three hundred pounds seemed like such a minuscule amount to replace one's dignity. She grinned up at him, flashing pearly white teeth, those eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief that made Jack's stomach churn. They captured him, drew him in like a moth to the flame as his mind flashed with images of a golden tanned and dimpled blond boy withering under him and for a moment, rage ran through his blood. Only Ralph was allowed to entice him in such a way, only Ralph could have those eyes and those lips and that deliciously blond hair. He wanted his gorgeous blond boy to be the only one with those eyes, to be the only one who could capture him in such a way and as he looked back at the woman pinned between his body and the outer wall of the alleyway, giving her body away for a mere three hundred pounds, he couldn't help but think _this simply won't do._ He watched her eyes travel to his left hand, his golden wedding band catching in the moonlight and her eyes widened.

 

“You're,” she paused, seemingly shell shocked. Jack quirked a brow at her, his lips tilting up in a grin as she tore her gaze away from his jewelry. “Married?” He shrugged, leaning back slightly to give her a bit of breathing room.

 

“I'm paying your for your services. What should it matter what my marital status is?” She shifted awkwardly and he couldn't help but think she looked like injured pray like that, trapped in his clutches and so filled with hurt and confusion. He had to repress the cheshire grin threatening to split his lips. She opened her mouth, preparing to speak, before quickly shutting it again and swallowing thickly, eyes almost a plea for help. Jack had to admit that she looked beautiful like that, scared and upset and completely at his disposal.

 

“I don't want to get between you and the lovely wife you have at home. Seems,” she paused for a moment as Jack lifted his chin, gazing down at her in a haughty manner. “Sleazy.” Was the word she decided on and the irony of the situation almost made him laugh. He placed his index finger under her chin, tilting her head up to force her to look into his eyes. He needed to see them again, those gorgeous blue irises that she didn't deserve.

 

“But that's not really any of your concern.” He said, watching as a blush began to creep across her neck. “I'd be willing to pay you double.” She pursed her lips, seeming to mull the offer over before nodding quickly, the affirmation making Jack's grin return at full force.

 

They ended up in a cheap hotel a few blocks away, Jack's lips pressed against hers furiously as she continued to mewl at his touch. She fell apart easily, he observed, listening to those cute little noises that escaped her lips anytime he so much as kissed or touched or bit. He had her back pressed against the door of the hotel room, one forearm resting against the wall next to her head as the other hand clamped down around her waist. He sunk his teeth into her bottom lip, pulling her closer, feeling her soft curves press against him. It was so different from snogging Ralph, her body much softer and smaller, her nose longer and slightly hooked, her lips not quite as full and missing that delectable _Golden Boy_ flavour. He snaked his tongue into her mouth, hoping that if he expressed just a bit more control she wouldn't be so desperate to take over as she kissed him back. She didn't submit the way Ralph always did, which seemed strange. Jack had always thought that girls preferred to be taken care of; that they were weaker and needed someone strong to lead, but they way she kissed with so much demanding passion made him think otherwise. She seemed to be attempting to gain some sort of leverage over him, to try and take control. Just like to woman to not understand her place.

 

He pulled away for a moment to admire his work, noticing how red and kiss-bitten her lips were and how blown her pupils seemed to be, that expression so much like Ralph's whenever they were in the very same position. He sneered, not wanting anyone else to remind him of his husband, not ever wanting to see another person like his husband again. There could only be one Ralph Merridew, only one person to belong solely to Jack. He trailed his lips down her neck, feeling her pulse point against his skin as he pressed his tongue there, making her gasp and attempt to press herself closer. He bit down suddenly, not sure if her cry was from pain or pleasure, but a satisfying noise either way. She seemed to have a strong reaction as he bit her neck again, sinking his teeth into her skin enough for a metallic flavour to coat his tongue. She didn't try to pull away, but she screamed, loud enough to wake the entire floor and Jack wanted nothing more than to hear that strangled cry again.

 

He steered her body toward the bed, pushing her on the mattress and watching as her head knocked back, all the air escaping her lungs in a desperate huff. He stood over her for a moment, admiring the look of absolute fear in her eyes, reminding him of his beautiful fair husband back home. He took a moment to glance at the clock, reading 7:32, and wrinkled his nose. This wouldn't take much longer. Hopefully Ralph wouldn't mind. He turned his attention back to the girl, her lower lip quivering and her eyes blown in an expression that Jack couldn't decipher as fear or arousal but he couldn't seem to look away. He loosened his tie, popping open the first button of his dress shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing the expanse of his pale, freckled forearms. His eyes trailed over to the base of her neck, noticing the spot of blood smearing her skin, the wound in the shape of tooth marks.

 

“Are you gonna leave your ring on?” She questioned, her voice shaky and fearful. Jack couldn't seem to suppress the feral grin that stretched his lips. He glanced down at his left ring finger, brows creasing as the gold band caught the light. He let his eyes flick back up to her, trailing over her form before he opened his mouth to speak.

 

“You remind me of him.” He said and watched as her expression transformed from fearful to confused.

 

“Who?” She asked, brows creased and the flush in her face subsiding. Jack pressed his lips together, clenching his left hand into a fist, feeling the wedding band press into his palm.

 

“My husband,” he clarified. “He has the same eyes, blond hair, pretty face.” His lips quirked up in a grin as he watched her face flush from embarrassment. He realized for perhaps the first time that she must be young -a mere child compared to him- and he thought for a moment that maybe such a child didn't deserve this life she had chosen for herself. Perhaps, even, she didn't deserve what was to come. But then he looked at her with those big blue eyes that looked _so much_ like Ralph's and he couldn't imagine anything but his husband during their years in university. “how old are you?” He asked, a bizarre sense of nostalgia suddenly washing over him. She fidgeted awkwardly, propping herself up on her elbows.

 

“Nineteen.” She answered, the embarrassed flush still covering her fair skin. Jack hummed, cupping her face in his hand, just under her jaw, just like how he would hold Ralph. And he was right, she was a child, a mere _teenager_ , a good eight years younger than himself, seven years less than his husband, and she was so naive. It would be all too easy.

 

“Look at me.” He ordered, watching as her eyes flicked over to meet his own. She dug her teeth into her lower lip, her eyes big and blow and filled with nerves. Jack cupped the other side of her face with his free hand, the ring pressing into the skin of her cheek. “It's unfortunate, really. You truly are beautiful and you had so much life left to live.” Before she could get a questioning word out, he quickly turned her head to the side, twisting until he heard the satisfying _snap_ of a broken neck and released his hold. Her body fell back on the bed, lifeless and limp, her head twisted at an impossible angle. Jack tutted, still unsatisfied with his work as he began pacing the carpeted floor of the hotel room. There was something about the body that just wasn't _right_. She was so clean, so untainted. Nothing about her seemed messy or bloody or _satisfying_. Jack chuckled for a moment, the thought crossing his mind that she didn't even get paid before hand. Oh, how pathetic a death it was.

 

He glanced at her eyes, open and lifeless and it occurred to him then what was wrong. He crawled onto the bed, hovering over the corpse, pressing his thumbs into her eyes, rolling them underneath the pads of his fingers. He dug his nails into them, watching as the blood began to pour out, coating his skin and dripping down her face like tears. A crying, bloody mess. And yet, she still wasn't perfect. He managed to find a letter opener in the drawer of a bedside table, not bothering to take a moment and wonder why, exactly, something of that sort would be found in a hotel room. Instead, he sliced it down the underside of her right forearm vertically, watching as the blood oozed out of the open wound, the skin split open rather gruesomely, but a large enough wound to kill. That was the answer, he thought suddenly. He'd make it look like a suicide. He dragged the blade down her other arm, this cut not quite as deep, not bad enough to bleed out. He glanced around the hotel room, searching for something he could use to tie a noose before zeroing in on the perfect item across the room. Slowly, his lips stretched into a feral grin.

 

* * *

 

Ralph hadn't expected to immediately start crying the second he entered Simon's apartment, and yet, there he was, sat at his friend's kitchen table with a hot cup of tea in front of him and salty tears streaming down his face. Simon rubbed his back soothingly, his hair disheveled and his pajama bottoms riding low on his hips. Covering his torso was an over sized white button down, most likely belonging to his boyfriend, Roger, whom Ralph had never quite grown accustomed to, having always been a bit put off by his quiet, brooding nature. Although, he supposed, Simon wasn't the type to choose a talkative partner. He wiped at his eyes and took a sip of his tea, the liquid warm and cozy, making a soothing feeling wash over him. God bless Simon for putting up with this sort of behavior at six o'clock in the morning when he could have had a lovely Saturday morning in bed. And still, Ralph couldn't muster up the courage or stability to explain what was going on, he just started bawling the moment he walked through the door and his friend immediately rushed to comfort him. Simon was a truly good soul.

 

“I think Jack's cheating on me.” Ralph said suddenly, wiping away the last of his tears as he looked into his friend's eyes. Simon's gaze softened into something of pure sympathy and caring as he pulled the fair boy into his arms. He didn't ask for further explanation, didn't try to deny Ralph's feelings, but instead accepted it and did his best to comfort him. It was then that Roger walked in, dressed in black trousers and a white button down, his police badge pinned to his chest. Simon glanced at him, brows creasing in concern.

 

“Are you going in today?” He asked and Roger nodded grimly, as if he were truly sorry that he had to work on a Saturday morning.

 

“Something happened on the east side, looks like a suicide but it's hard to say.” His lips quirked slightly, a devious sort of grin stretching his lips. “Awfully gruesome, too.” He said it almost dreamily, making Simon sigh and roll his eyes, walking over to his boyfriend before cupping his cheek.

 

“Go on, fulfill your blood lust, detective.” He said it almost sarcastically, which was a bizarre tone coming from Simon's mouth, and Ralph watched in dismay as their lips locked in a loving kiss. The fair lad felt a twinge of bitterness cross his mind, then immediately felt guilty for allowing himself to be jealous of his friend's relationship, especially considering there was truly nothing to be jealous of; Roger and Jack were strangely similar people, after all. Roger's grin only seemed to grow, although it seemed much more tender in place of that somewhat unsettling smirk it had once been. Ralph's fingers curled around the handle of his teacup, awkwardly picking at the porcelain as he tried not to seem too intrusive. He didn't like gazing upon the relationships of others, always finding something like romantic love to be too privet of a thing for his peering eyes. He heard Roger murmur something unintelligible, and then Simon snort and lightly smack his partner's arm. Almost against his will, Ralph felt the corners of his lips tilt up in a small smile.

 

Once Roger had left and they were alone in the flat, Simon retook his seat next to the fair boy, resting his hand on the other's should comfortingly. Ralph managed a weak smile back at him, eyes trained on the tea in front of him as he tried to keep himself from crying again.

 

“We should do something fun today.” Simon suggested, trying his best at a dazzling smile. The fair boy shrugged, pressing his lips together in a firm line. He hadn't intended to be rude, nor had he wanted to shoot down his friend's idea without a second thought, but he wasn't in the mood to go out and enjoy himself. He wanted to stay in his joggers and wallow in self pity for the rest of the day. Not to mention, leaving the flat would create a slight chance of seeing Jack out and about and although that scenario wasn't likely, Ralph wasn't willing to take his chances. “I mean, stay in and watch films, like we used to do in secondaries.” The dark boy clarified, the idea one that Ralph perked up at. He hadn't had a day of doing practically nothing with Simon in a long while, the idea seeming a little too much like the sort of thing giggling school girls would get themselves up to and _goddammit_ , they had reached adulthood and they would act like it. However, the fair boy was in a sour, rotten mood and needed a bit of cheering up and there was no harm in ignoring his responsibilities for just one day, was there? He glanced back at Simon, whose eyes were filled with a pleading hope, and tried his best for a grin.

 

“I think that's a fantastic idea.”

 

* * *

 

It was just Ralph's luck that his husband would call halfway through the most emotional scene of _Titanic._ Really, he wasn't sure his luck could possibly get much worse as his obnoxious ringtone -which was Brittney Spears's _Hit Me Baby One More Time_ , a song he had spent an entire pound on just to make a stupid joke with his husband- began blaring just as Rose begged Jack to _“Never let go.”_ And speak of the devil, the fair lad's very own Jack had been trying to get a hold of him. He glanced at Simon apologetically as he checked the caller id, his friend merely smiling and making a gesture to shoo him away in return. He pushed himself off the couch and began making his way into another room as he answered, trying his best to keep his voice as cold and indifferent as possible.

 

“What do you want, Jack?” There was a pause on the other end of the line and Ralph couldn't help but roll his eyes. When his husband finally spoke, his voice sounded cautious and hesitant.

 

“I woke up and you weren't home,” he paused and Ralph held his breath, waiting for the other to continue. “Is everything okay?” For a moment, the fair boy contemplated saying yes, that everything was fine and that he'd be home later that night. Maybe he'd even give Jack a specific time and not bother to show up at all, perhaps then he'd understand what it felt like. But, reasonably, he knew he couldn't do that. Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to ground his thoughts.

 

“Actually, no, it's not. Are you going to tell me where you were last night?” He heard Jack groan on the other end of the line and had to physically restrain himself from scoffing, instead replacing it with a particularly dramatic eyeroll.

 

“Are we still on this?” Ralph nearly screamed at his husband's tone, as if the question inconvenienced him in some way, as if it were utterly unreasonable. Instead, he said nothing, waiting for the other's response with tension between his joints. Jack sighed again, deep and slightly dramatic and Ralph could just imagine him rubbing his eyes like he always did when he was annoyed. “I apologised, isn't that enough?” Ralph sneered, unable to keep the bite out of his next words.

 

“No, actually, it's not. Surprisingly, you're half-assed apology wasn't enough this time because I'm pretty sure you're cheating on me.” Silence. Ralph held his breath as he waited for a reply, anything to let him know that Jack finally understood why he was so upset.

 

“Is... is that what this is about? You think I'm unfaithful?” Ralph could feel the tears begin to well up in his eyes, threatening to spill. He didn't trust himself to speak, didn't trust his voice not to crack if he did, so instead he hummed in affirmation, clenching his fist hard enough for his nails to dig in to the skin of his palm. He heard Jack blow out a large puff of breath on the other end of the line, imaging the man to be rubbing his temples like he so often did when he was trying to think. “I wouldn't,” he cut himself off before he groaned. “Listen, Ralph, it's nothing like that. I had to stay late at the office and I was pretty stressed out, so I got a few drinks with Maurice and Robert and time got away from me. I had completely forgotten to call and tell you and I'm really sorry.” Ralph hesitated, chewing the corner of his lower lip.

 

“I... don't know if I believe you.” He answered truthfully, knowing full well that his husband was not usually a forgetful person. Unless he was drunk or stressed and he had smelt a bit like alcohol when he had gotten home, now that Ralph thought about it. Jack's story checked out, and yet he couldn't seem to shake this dirty feeling.

 

“Just ask Maurice if you're still not sure. He'll tell you the same thing.” Ralph paused, running his tongue over his lips as his brows furrowed. He held his breath for a moment, not quite ready to let out a sigh of defeat quite yet. He pressed his lips together, knowing that he was being too quiet for too long, but he couldn't seem to think of anything to say. Jakc held his breath on the other end, not daring to speak and ruin everything he had worked up to.

 

“I'm still mad at you for being an idiot.” Ralph finally answered and he could just _imagine_ he's husband's wide grin on the other end of the line; the grin of success.

 

“That's fair.” He answered and Ralph didn't miss the fact that his husband couldn't seem to keep the arrogant happiness out of his voice. The fair boy rolled his eyes playfully, for a brief moment forgetting that Jack couldn't see his face.

 

“Which means no sex for a week.” Ralph retorted, unable to contain his grin at the silence on the other end of the line, the quiet that seemed to last just a moment too long. Finally, he heard the red head snort, a nasty little chortle that had the fair boy wrinkling his nose.

 

“I'm pretty sure that's more of a punishment for you than for me.” He said, unable to keep that annoying, cocky sarcasm out of his voice. Ralph had to bite his tongue to keep himself from grinning. He was glad they were bantering again, it made things seem almost normal, as if they hadn't had a fight. Jack was right, of course. It always seemed as though Ralph was the one who initiated things, who got desperate and hungry for the other, while Jack was better at controlling himself. The fair boy thought it had something to do with his own boredom, considering he hadn't had a proper job in _months_ , nor a pet nor child to look after. It was him alone in the flat all day with nothing more to do than look for work and wait for his husband to return home and it was often during that time that his mind tended to wonder toward sex. Jack, however, never seemed to have any complaints, but did positively _reveal_ in teasing and working the fair boy up until his was a withering, frustrated mess and often made Ralph accuse his husband of being a sadist. The red head's retort was always a wink and a devilish grin.

 

“ _Fine_ ,” Ralph sighed, feigning annoyance. “Than you'll have to bottom for a week.” He couldn't conceal his grin at the sound of his husband's hiss on the other end. He could imagine that angular face twisting into a look of disgust.

 

“That's plain cruel.” The fair boy grinned.

 

“Listen, I'm going to be home in a few hours. I'm at Simon's and we were just about to watch a movie. But I'll see you soon, yeah?” Jack hummed in affirmation, making Ralph's grin grow wider. “Okay, I love you.”

 

“Yeah, love you too.” As soon as the conversation ended, the fair boy stepped out of the secluded room, making his way back to Simon with an impenetrable grin plastered on his face.

 

* * *

 

Jack hadn't exactly _lied_ , he just hadn't told the entire truth. He had been stuck at the office late, he had been stressed, he had gone drinking with a few of his mates, and he had completely forgotten to call. He had just left out the most important reason he hadn't been home one time. But Ralph, well, he didn't need to know that. Not yet. Still, the tall, freckled man couldn't help feeling as though he had been dishonest with his husband. But it was _necessary_ , he couldn't tell the full truth to the golden boy, not when it was something so gruesome, so difficult to explain. So he waited for his love to return home, back into his arms so Jack could finally have that beautiful, _beautiful_ boy back in his possession -so that he could finally calm his tremulous feelings to anger, jealousy, guilt. He needed Ralph back, needed to know that he was safe and well and completely at Jack's mercy, for he was the only person who had ever received the red head's love, the only one who held his heart and the power to crush it. Jack couldn't have anyone else with that sort of power over him, he couldn't even bear the thought of someone else _looking_ like his beloved because no one deserved those eyes and that hair and that smile. No one deserved to be Ralph, the precious golden boy that lit up Jack Merridew's life.

 

Jack waited patiently for his light to return, to bask in that golden hair and that tanned skin and that dazzling smile -to feel those full lips pressed to his own, reminding him of bubblegum and sweet, sweet sunshine. His heart stopped in his chest when he heard the front door open, everything in his being leaping off their sofa to run to his lover. They stared at each other for a while, silently, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife as icy blue eyes traced over Ralph's body, taking in _everything_ like and animal assessing its prey. The fair boy stood in the door way, his over sized jumper hanging off one shoulder awkwardly, blond hair tousled like he had just rolled out of bed, his right hand holding on tight to his keys. How Jack longed to hold him, to wrap his arms around his husband's slim waist and kiss those full lips until he couldn't breath. But he waited, watching for and waiting for the other to make a move if that was what Ralph so desired. Jack could be whatever his husband wanted.

 

He wasn't sure who kissed whom first. It seemed as though there was mutual jumping into each other's arms as their lips locked in a kiss that was passionate and unbreakable. Everything about his golden boy was hungry and desperate as their lips crashed together in kisses that were all teeth and tongue. Ralph whined, a sound that Jack found beautiful, the sort of thing he could never get sick of hearing as he cupped his husband's face in his hand, deepening their kisses. He used his leverage to keep the fair boy's mouth open, just enough for him to plunge his tongue inside, licking into Ralph's mouth like it was made of candy. Fingers threaded into his hair, tugging slightly as sweet mewls poured from full, kiss-bitten lips.

 

It took too long for them to pull away from each other, seeming as though every time they tried, the would end up with their lips locked together once again. It was Ralph who ended it eventually, resting his forehead against Jack's, both breathing heavily. Icy blue eyes followed as the fair boy's tongue poked out of his mouth, licking his lips in what could have been either anticipation or thought. When he spoke, his voice sounded low and lustful, making an electric current travel up Jack's spine. “You're such a bloody idiot.” Those were the only words uttered before the red headed man felt himself being pulled in for another harsh kiss, needy and desperate and _emotional._ Jack tightened his hands around Ralph's waist, feeling as though any ounce of control he once had was slipping through his fingers because his love, his precious ray of sunshine, was _upset_ , _angry,_ and he was doing everything in his power to gain enough leverage to prove it. Well, Jack thought, he most certainly couldn't have that.

 

He pulled away, watching with amusement as the fair boy desperately tried to chase after his lips, his lips stretching into a smirk. “Desperate, are we?” He teased, watching as Ralph's gaze darkened with a mix of lust and frustration and anger.

 

“Shut up,” he snapped, voice demanding, gaze hardened. “Just shut the fuck up and _ravish_ me.” Jack's grin only widened, his eyes darkening into an expression he could only assume was feral. Oh, how he would enjoy tearing this boy down bit by bit. He backed them up against the nearest wall, Ralph's back hitting the plaster with a sickening _thud_ that only seemed to make Jack proud. He pressed the palm of his hand against the space near his husband's head, partly to balance himself, but mostly to keep the fair boy trapped and at his disposal. An idea suddenly sparked in his head, the sort of thing that was nothing but vicious, something that would break this boy apart. He dropped to his knees, watching as Ralph's face did that _precious_ thing it tended to do whenever the fair boy was confused, his brows furrowing slightly, his mouth slightly agape -he was so fucking _cute_. He had fair reason to be perplexed, truthfully, for it wasn't often that they found themselves in this position when it was usually the other way around.

 

Jack grinned back up at him, tugging the elastic band of Ralph's joggers down his thighs, palming at the growing bulge in his underwear. The golden boy threw his head back and gasped, tangling his fingers into Jack's hair as the red head fully cupped him through his boxer-briefs, pressing kisses along the exposed skin stretched across his hipbone. Jack flicked his tongue over the skin experimentally, eliciting a shiver from his husband and a slight tug on his hair. He grinned, fully pressing his tongue to the skin there before running it along the expanse of skin, lower and lower until-

 

“A-ahh!” Ralph's moan was loud and unexpected as the red headed man's tongue explored his cloth-covered bulge. Jack sucked slightly, leaving a damp patch in the fair boy's underwear as he mewled, those beautiful noises only spurring the other man on. Jack could feel the heat pooling in his lower abdomen, making a warm, tingling sensation spread throughout his body, making his cheeks feel warm and his pants tighten. He sucked at the fair boy again, hooking his thumbs into the waist band of his husband's underwear as he glanced up at that perfectly flushed face, panting and clouded over with need. A sheepish grin tugged at Ralph's lips as he ran his fingers through Jack's hair. “I, uh,” he started, awkwardly, his gaze drifting away from cold blue eyes. He chewed at the corner of his lip, a nervous habit that Jack had always found utterly irresistible. “I forgot how much I like this.” He attempted to flash a grin, stunning and glittering with awkward pride. Jack smirked back.

 

“Don't get used to it.” He reminded because, honestly, he had never been one for giving blow jobs, never in the mood to be in such a vulnerable, almost submissive position -not when things could be the other way around. But today he was apologising, which meant swallowing his pride and giving his husband as much satisfaction as he physically desired. Ralph only sighed in response, letting the back of his head rest against the wall behind him. Jack grinned, tugging the fair boy's underwear over the swell of his arse, pushing the fabric over his thighs until it fell off his legs to pool around his ankles. He wrapped his hand around his husband's cock, pumping one, twice, and listening to the glorious sounds of Ralph's little moans and sighs of pleasure. Slowly, he licked a stripe up the underside, from the base to the little sensitive patch of skin just below the head. Jack sucked there as his hand continued pumping, making a broken moan escape Ralph's lips as he tugged slightly at ginger curls.

 

“Jack,” he sighed, voice sounding desperate and breathy, the sort of thing that had the other man grinning with delight. He sucked the head fully into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before slowly taking the fair boy deep, inch by inch until his nose was brushed against Ralph's pubic bone, his cock hitting the back of Jack's throat. He hallowed his cheeks, swallowing around the fair boy as he bathed in those sweet, soft moans that sounded like music. He held Ralph's hips down, pinning them roughly against the plaster so he wouldn't try to buck into Jack's mouth and gain some sort of power over him. He pulled off so that his lips pressed to the very tip, letting his tongue flick over the skin before sucking it back into his mouth. He twisted his hand around the base of Ralph's cock, eliciting and gasp and a whine of pleasure that had Jack smirking. His husband's breathing was harsh and heavy with desire , the sort of thing that sent a current of electricity down jack's spine and spurred him to take the fair boy deeper, running his tongue along the underside of his shaft, paying close attention to the protruding vein there. “Shit,” Ralph murmured, the curse coming out as a breathy sort of pant as Jack watched his eyes flutter closed. He pulled off then, listening to Ralph whine as he sat back on his heels.

 

“That was mean.” Ralph complained, his lower lip protruding in an adorable pout that had Jack grinning. He shrugged, standing then from his place on the carpet as he backed the fair boy up against the wall, pressing their bodies together as he stared him down, the look in his eyes predatory and _hungry_. The fair boy's eyes widened as he visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing just ever so slightly. Jack flashed a cocky sort of grin, the kind that made his husband's knees turn to jelly.

 

“I just needed to work you up a bit, golden boy.” He murmured against Ralph's ear, hot breath ghosting over the skin as he pressed their hips together, grinding harshly and making his husband's hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his flannel. Jack cupped his cheek, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheekbone, fingertips trailing down to stroke his bottom lip. He licked his lips almost subconsciously, eyes lingering on his husband's a moment too long before flicking back up to those dark blue eyes. His mind was brought back to that girl, the girl who could never _possibly_ be Ralph. He thought of that honey blonde hair and those eyes and that pretty face that could never amount to his husband's despite the similarities. No one could _ever_ be him. Jack would make sure of that.

 

He smashed their lips together, pinning Ralph's hands against the wall as he ground their hips together, harsh and unforgiving. Their fingers laced together, the fair boy squeezing his hand -a reassurance that this was _okay_ , that everything was okay. Jack released him then in favour of working at the button on his jeans and pushing his trousers and underwear down his legs. He hiked one of his husband's legs around his waist, squeezing the soft skin of his thigh before smoothing his hand up to grip the juncture of Ralph's thigh and arse. The fair boy followed his lead, wrapping his other leg around Jack's waist, pulling them flush together so he was trapped between the wall and the ginger's body, rutting their hips together desperately. Jack's free hand rested on the small of his back, helping to keep the fair boy up as his teeth closed around his husband's bottom lip, tugging him closer, wanting to touch and taste every part of him.

 

“Jack,” he panted, gaze half-lidded and voice desperate. “Jack, please,” he was begging, so desperate for Jack's touch that he couldn't seem to wait any longer and _God_ did the other man not want to leave this position. He'd have done anything to slip inside without preparation, without lube, and fuck that gorgeous boy senseless, to pound into him until all he could remember was the name _Jack Merridew_. But he knew that, reasonably, that wasn't and option -that he needed his love to be comfortable and to do that he'd need to grab their bottle of lube, unless-

 

Oh, how he was an idiot for forgetting. He let his right hand slip from it's place just _ever so close_ to the fair boy's arse as he dug around in his back pocket. After what seemed like too long of a moment of awkward fumbling and frustration, his fingers closed around the packet, a little cold and squishy, but exactly what he needed. He pulled away from the fair boy's lips with a soft whine of complaint from his husband before shoving it between his teeth and ripping it open. Ralph stared for a moment, an amused sparkle in his eyes as his lips tilted up into a smile, which quickly escalated to an awkward giggled.

 

“Of _course_ you would.” He teased, to which Jack grinned and squirted a generous amount of lube along the length of his dick before tossing the now empty packet aside and spreading it around his length. Ralph squeezed his legs around Jack's waist, pulling him closer before pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips as Jack's hand retook its place on the juncture between the fair boy's upper thigh and arse. He pushed in slowly, his husband letting out three musical _ah's_ as he fully sheathed himself inside, feeling the fair boy flutter around him, his hips shifting to adjust to Jack's size. It had come to be a relatively comfortable fit over the years they had been together, but the fair boy still always needed a moment or so to get used to his husband's cock. Slowly, Jack began to move, just barely pulling out before sliding back in. he was being more gentle than he was used to, going slow and giving Ralph time to adjust and enjoy because this wasn't about him right now, it was about his husband. It wasn't sex or fucking or even making love, it was an _apology,_ something he needed the fair boy to understand.

 

Ralph sighed, hugging Jack tighter as he locked their lips together in a kiss that was all tender passion and fondness. The red headed man pulled him down by his hips while he simultaneously bucked up into him, causing the golden boy to cry out, trowing his head back as his thighs clenched tighter around Jack's waist. Thin lips trailed his neck, barely ghosting over the skin in what was nearly a kiss before he found that sweet, sensitive spot just below his ear and bit down as his hips thrust up, stuffing the fair boy full as his body resonated with a mix of pain and pleasure. Ralph shuttered around him, burying his face in Jack's neck as his warm breath panted against his shoulder.

 

“You're beautiful like this.” Jack murmured into his hair, angling his hips _just so_ , just enough to brush by the other's prostate and make him shake and shutter.

 

“I'm beautiful all the time, bastard.” Ralph said, his voice muffled by the fabric of his husband's flannel as he shifted and squirmed around his cock. Jack grinned and pressed sweet kisses to his hair, humming as he thrust up again, particularly harshly and making his husband's back hit the wall. A part of him hoped to _God_ that their neighbors didn't hear.

 

“But especially like this, all disheveled and flushed red, all because of me. Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy.” Ralph whined, fisting the fabric of Jack's shirt into his hands, clutching tightly against him.

 

“Oh, shit, Jack I-” he cut himself of with a sweet, high pitched moan, letting his head fall back against the wall as he angled his hips enough to meet Jack's thrusts.

 

“You gonna come?” The red headed man asked, eyes trained on his husband's beautiful, flushed face. Ralph bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he nodded. “Then come.” The words were whispered in his ear as Jack gave a final thrust, hitting his prostate at just the right angle. The fair boy cried out, arching his back in a display that was nothing but glorious and perfect as he shuttered a release, his fluids spilling over their shirts, making a mess that Jack would be fucking _thrilled_ to clean up if it meant seeing that pretty face he made. The taller man followed soon after, spilling inside his husband's arse as his teeth dug into the skin of his neck, surely hard enough to leave a faint purple mark in its wake. They leant their forehead together, panting and flushed as Jack pulled out, listen to his husband's soft mewl. He was still tender and sensitive and his eyes drooped with exhaustion that made the red headed man feel a bit fatigued as well. Ralph slid down the wall, his feet hitting the carpet delicately before they finally pulled away from each other, shucking off their stained shirts and letting them fall to the floor.

 

“I love you.” Jack murmured, pressing a kiss to the fair boy's forehead.

 

* * *

 

Simon, batty as that boy could be, was on to something -Roger had a blood lust. He wasn't sure when it had started, but there was always something fascinating to him about all that gore, all that pretty red. Which was why he liked his job so much. For him, it had nothing to do with helping people; nothing about catching criminals and ridding society of them and their twisted ways. No, for Roger, it was about all that gore and murder and _blood._ Which was why he was always the one to approach the body first and never the one to batg and eye at the gruesome images that lay before him. His partner liked to joke that perhaps he was a sociopath in the making, that maybe some day he would be the one to do the killings. Those were jokes he would always laugh off because, really, that notion was absurd. He couldn't risk his job and his life and his boyfriend all to fulfill some sort of sick need to make another human bleed. That's what sex was for. The way he would bite Simon hard enough to see the delicious red substance, the way he would drag a knife over the soft skin of his boyfriend's stomach gently, just enough to see beads of red pour from pretty caramel skin, that mixed with work was all enough to keep his sickness in check.

 

And this was no suicide. She was a prostitute, Roger assumed, a woman who had ended up on the wrong end of life, someone who was so down on her luck she had went off to sell her body to complete strangers. They always had the saddest lives, didn't they? Weren't they always the ones to find themselves at the wrong place at the wrong time, with nothing to show for it? If Roger were the type of person to feel empathy, he would pity the poor girl. But, truthfully, she was nothing more to him than a specimen and he couldn't seem to find it in himself to care. She was hanging from the ceiling by her neck, her forearms slashed vertically and little streams of dried blood running down her cheeks like tears. Whoever did this had a bizarre sense of humor, Roger thought. That, or...

 

Realization struck him suddenly as he fished his LED light from the pocket of his trousers, prying her eyelids open only to see nail marks running across her corneas. Roger wrinkled his nose, shining the light in her left eye and catching hints of what used to be a dark blue iris. He glanced at her hair, long and honey blonde and pretty -clearly her natural colour- a colour so familiar, so similar to someone he knew.

 

 _Shit_ , Roger thought, turning his attention to his partner, who had decided to hang back and let the other man investigate for himself. Roger moistened his lips, brows furrowed in concentration.

 

“My money's on a murder,” he said and watched as his partner nodded grimly.

 

“Do you think...?” He didn't need to finish the sentence. Roger already knew exactly what he was going to say.

 

“Yeah, this definitely has something to do with the other murder's that have been popping up over town, and I might have a theory why.” _Goddammit, Jack._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is either flashbacks or set in the past, meaning that it's mainly written in italics. Yes, I recognize that this is an incredibly annoying way to read and, if you're anything like me, you tend to skip over italicized parts in stories. However, everything that's written in italics is important to the progression of the story. 
> 
> ALSO
> 
> There are some rather unflattering things said about Piggy, most of which regard his weight and appearance. I personally don't believe in body shaming, nor do I hate Piggy as a character, but since most of the chapter is in Jack's perspective, I tried to keep his thoughts and opinions true to character. 
> 
> AND LASTLY
> 
> There isn't any sex in this chapter, it's mostly backstory and explanation, so if that's what you're reading this story for than.... sorry? I guess? But to make it up to you, I promise that next chapter will be riddled with sin.

Jack missed his husband. It was pathetic, really, considering Ralph hadn't been gone for _that_ long. He was in London for five days, some trip he'd been planning with his mates for months -the sort of thing Jack didn't have the heart to say no to. Really, he didn't control his husband, nor did he have any jurisdiction over what the fair boy did in his spare time, but that didn't stop him from feeling so lonely. Although he recognised that it perhaps wasn't the healthiest way to go about a relationship, it tended to irk Jack whenever his husband went off and made plans without consulting him first. Sure, Ralph wasn't his _property_ , but he still belonged to Jack, in a way, and was it really so much to ask that they talk about things before making rash decisions? Granted, he wasn't in the best position to be complaining, considering his communication skills were a bit lack luster themselves and Ralph _had_ bothered to warn him a few nights before he left. So maybe he didn't have a right to be so annoyed, maybe his husband was a grown-ass-adult, as well as an individual, fully capable of making his own choices. Still, Jack missed him.

 

It had been three days already, and he was beginning to wonder how he ever survived without his husband. He wasn't sure how to cook, didn't bother to do housework, never made the bed in the morning (which Ralph would _kill_ him for if he ever found out) and had no idea how to do something as simple as grocery shopping. Currently, the only food in the house was stale cereal and individual packets of ramen noodles. It was sad how incompetent Jack was on his own; he was twenty-seven year old, _dammit_ , he should know how to function without his husband around. He tried to remember what it was like to be alone for a such a long period of time, but by the time he had moved out of his parent's house, he had acquired Roger as a flatmate, who was weirdly tidy and at least understood the basics of cooking, so housework wasn't ever something Jack had to worry about. Until Ralph left for an extended period of time, that was.

 

__________

“ _Roger,” Jack said, shitty metal music blasting from the speakers of their sitting room, a can of cheap beer in his hand as his friend lit his third cigarette of the night. He gazed up at the ceiling, as if the popcorn texture was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. Okay, so he was pretty tabled, and yeah, he tended to get talky when he was drunk, but he couldn't seem to get the thought of clear blue eyes on and golden hair out of his mind. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” His friend gagged, sputtering a bit as he choked on the fumes of his cigarette. If it had been any other time, Jack would have laughed -would have teased him relentlessly- but he was too lost in his own love struck haze to say a word._

 

“ _Jesus Christ, chief, when'd you become such a sucker for lovey-dovey shit?” Roger asked, an amused grin stretching over his lips. Jack leaned back a bit, gaze still fixated on the ceiling of their shitty, run down flat, wondering what on Earth he did to have it this bad for a stranger. He grinned back, unable to put into words just how enamored he was with this ray of sunshine, unable to comprehend how giddy it made him feel. Instead, he heard Roger sigh, the strong scent of menthol and nicotine hitting his senses as wispy gray smoke filled the room. “Fuck, I knew I shouldn't've let Simon over hear so much. Batty kid's rubbing off on you.” Jack snorted, finally letting his eyes flick over to his friend, a sarcastic grin plastered on his face._

 

“ _Not like I get to talk to Simon much when he's over, not with the way you shag his brains out the second he steps foot inside.” Roger tried to scowl, but the look on his face was far too proud to be as menacing as he wanted it to be. Jack just laughed, downing fair amount of his drink as all the warm, fuzzy feelings of intoxication danced in his head. They were quiet for a moment, the sounds of Roger's shit music blaring through their cheap speakers taking away Jack's already limited focus._

 

“ _Who is it, then?” Roger asked, sounding bored with the conversation already. He took a long drag of his cigarette, closing his eyes as he held the smoke in mouth. He exhaled heavily through his nose, all the gray smoke billowing from his nostrils, making him look like a dragon. Jack couldn't help but grin at that thought._

 

“ _Dunno,” he admitted, because he had yet to catch the fair boy's name. “He's in my business class, pretty blond bloke with these stunning blue eyes. Dimples, tan skin, the works.” He took another sip of his beer, letting the carbonation coat his tongue. “I'm gonna ask him to marry me.” Roger laughed at that, an honest to God belly laugh that had Jack scowling._

 

“ _Oi, you're fucking plastered. Bloody mental.” He said, a slight chuckle still in his voice. “No one in the right mind would say yes to_ that _proposal.” Jack sneered, standing from his place in the old recliner to get himself another drink. Perhaps just a glass of water this time to help him clear his head._

 

“ _You'll see, ya prick.” Jack muttered, mostly to himself but still loud enough for Roger to hear. “We'll fall in love and get married, with a picket fence and apple pie and two kids. Some good ol' American Dream shit.” Roger snorted, rocking back in his own chair._

 

“ _You're not American, you fuck.” He minded Jack, an amused spark in his gray eyes. “Besides, seems unlikely pretty boy's a fag, like you.” Jack slammed the refrigerator door shut, whirling around just fast enough to make himself feel a little light headed._

 

“ _You are_ no _position to be calling anyone else a fag, you fag.” He shot back making Roger grin an shrug his shoulders, stubbing out the remainder of his cigarette._

 

“ _I'm not the one spouting nonsense about love at first sight now, am I?” He retorted, making Jack press his lips together in defeat. He returned to his position on the recliner, a glass of water balanced in his palm._

 

“ _I'm in love with him,” he said, finally, making Roger grin an roll his eyes. “Whatever his stupid fucking name is.”_

__________

 

Jack ended up watching a lot of television while Ralph was away, finding the mind-numbingness of shitty reality shows and _The Great British Back Off_ to be oddly calming. When he wasn't at work, he was busy wasting his time stretched out on the couch, remote laying on his chest, with his eyes glazed over and trying to keep himself from getting embarrassingly wrapped up in _Celebrity Big Brother_. Okay, some maybe this entire situation was embarrassing, but he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do when Ralph wasn't home. He couldn't very well go out drinking if it was a week night and he couldn't very well busy himself with his thoughts of his beautiful husband while he wrapped his hand around his cock. Sure, he had _tried_. After all, he missed him and he was growing bored and frustrated and horny, so jacking off was the easy solution, but it seemed every time he tried to turn his attention and thoughts to Ralph, he was reminded of _her_.

 

He really didn't want to have to remember her, to consider her ever again, but he couldn't help it. He had never gone as far with a victim as he had with her, had never created such a brutal atrocity, had never kissed and held and touched someone like that before. Not when that person wasn't Ralph. But he _had to_ , he tried to rationalize, or else she wouldn't have gone with him, wouldn't have done as he pleased. She was clever, more so than the others, and not quite miserable and desperate enough to follow him to the ends of the Earth just for the promise of money. Besides, there was something about her that separated her from the others, something that reminded him _so much_ of Ralph when they were young and naive and stuck in uni, wanting nothing more than to graduate and explore the world together. Those memories were for them only, those small reminders belonged solely to him and Ralph and no one else. He _had_ to do what he did, for his husband and his own heart. He couldn't stand to love another like he loved his golden boy, couldn't stand to have anyone so much as _remind_ him of Ralph, not when he fell in love with those eyes and those dimples and that hair. She had gotten in the way of that.

 

So why was it he felt so guilty? He had never felt guilty about any of the others, never had anyone affect him as much as she did. It wasn't attraction that he felt toward her, nor was it love or affection -all the room in his heart was for Ralph and Ralph alone- so what was it that had him so hooked? She was dead, he recognized that, and there was nothing he could do to change the past, and yet, he felt as though something was missing, like he hadn't fully done what he had intended to do.

 

__________

_Ralph was his name, and he was just as amazing as Jack initially thought. He was smart and funny, filled to the brim with this energy that Jack couldn't seem to keep up with. Everything about him seemed strong, as though he wasn't afraid of anything, but gentle and caring all the same. He was a bit air-headed at times, not always fully picking up on social cues and was often clumsy and forgetful, which Jack only seemed to find endearing. When they kissed, even the smallest peck of farewell, it set Jack's skin ablaze, making his heart beat faster in his chest and his breath catch in his throat. The more time he spent with Ralph, the more he seemed to fall in love. He felt like he was floating, so far above the clouds that nothing could ever touch him, and his determination to marry this boy, to take his hand forever, only grew. Roger was beginning to get annoyed._

 

“ _Ralph, Ralph, Ralph,” He complained one day, rolling his eyes as they walked toward the nearest pub. It was Friday night, just after Jack's last class, and he needed to get shitfaced. “It's all you ever talk about anymore. You're getting pussy whipped, chief.” Jack rolled his eyes, plucking the cigarette from between Roger's fingers and taking a slow drag himself. He handed it back to his scowling friend, a cheeky grin on his face._

 

“ _He's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me, Rog.” Jack said, his eyes glossing over with a dreamy, far away look. Roger's face twisted in disgust as he let the nearly burnt out cigarette fall to the ground, stomping his out with the heel of his beat up converse. “Haven't you ever been in love?” Roger's frown deepened. The cool autumn wind tousled his shaggy black hair and brushed against his rosy cheeks. He looked like a child, all bundled up and flushed from the chill, his cap pulled over his forehead and his jumpers zipped up to his chin. Jack couldn't help but grin at the sight._

 

“ _No.” He said, as if the question offended him, as if he was upset with Jack for even attempting to hint at such an idea. Jack frowned as they stopped in front of the put, his fingers curling around the cool metal of the door handle._

 

“ _Not even with Simon?” He tried, because the prospect of his friend not even having the slightest bit of affection for the batty boy seemed a bit odd, considering how much time they spent together. Roger shook his head, pushing his way past Jack to get inside. “You two have been together longer than I've known you.”_

 

“ _That doesn't mean I love him,” Roger said, seemingly annoyed with the topic of conversation. “It just means he has a nice arse I keep going back to.” He took his usual seat at the bar and ordered his usual drink (Gin and tonic. Three of them. Yes, right now, and I plan on ordering more.) and that was the end of that._

 

_Jack had a date that Saturday morning. He hadn't fully thought the situation through, considering he was so love struck and giddy whenever he was around the fair boy that he couldn't seem think straight. He woke up severely hung over, feeling as though the world was spinning around him and his heart beat had gotten trapped inside the crown of his head. But he couldn't seem to find it in himself to cancel, to think that he wouldn't be able to see Ralph for another few days if he didn't go. So he threw on his joggers and a white t-shirt and took more than the recommended dosage (those things are just recommendations, anyway) of aspirin and ran out the door.They met at the library on campus, which was probably bigger than any lecture hall Jack had been in, and kissed upon their hellos, Ralph giggling at Jack's ensemble. The sweet sound of his laugh made Jack's heart melt and he couldn't help but grin widely._

 

“ _Rough night?” The fair boy asked, raising his brows expectantly. That was another thing about Ralph that Jack appreciated; he wasn't_ afraid. _He never seemed to be intimidated or anxious, never seemed to see Jack the way others did, and would instead treat him like an equal -almost like a friend before a lover. The fair boy was truly amazing, Jack thought, the sort of person he could spend the rest of his life with._

 

“ _Fun night,” Jack said, smirking as he rested his palm against the wall, trapping Ralph's body between the building and his own. “Rough morning.” The golden boy giggled again, a sweet, soft laugh that Jack could drown in if he so desired. And he did -he really, really, did._

 

“ _I don't think I've ever met someone who could be smooth whilst still incredibly hungover.” Ralph replied, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning nonchalantly against the brick. Playing hard to get, an act that made a feral grin cross Jack's lips._

 

“ _Are you trying to tell me that I'm unique, golden boy?” He asked, leaning closer, their noses millimeters from brushing together. Ralph grinned back, letting the flat of his palm rest on Jack's chest, just over his heart. He blue eyes, clear and beautiful and so easy to get lost in, glistened like sunshine bouncing off the sea._

 

“ _Maybe,” his voice was low, breathy, and everything about it screamed_ flirtatious _. “Kiss me, then we'll see.” Jack, for once in his life, did exactly as he was told, allowing their lips to meet in something that was soft and gentle and kind. He tried to be sweet, tried not to crush the delicacy of their new relationship because generally, holding back was not his strong suit. It wasn't until he felt long, nimble fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer, that he let go. Hungry lips attacked, pinning the fair boy against the wall as his thumb circled delicate, slim hips. Ralph's hand cupped his cheek, keeping him in place as their lips moved together, opening slightly to allow for deeper, more passionate kisses. Jack tongue rolled into Ralph's mouth, licking over his top lip and flicking slightly against his teeth. The fair boy mewled, clutching white fabric in his palms as he melted against Jack's body, sinking into him perfectly and letting the taller boy lead. They pulled away too soon, with a soft whine from Ralph and a grunt of aggitation from Jack. But they were in public and couldn't carry on as if they weren't._

 

“ _You are,” Ralph started, voice breathy and pupils blown, as if he was utterly amazed at what just happened. “Incredible.” A spike of pride swelled in Jack's chest, oozing through his heart as he wished for nothing more than to kiss this beautiful fair boy senseless until neither of them could breathe. Instead, he place a soft, chaste kiss to the crown of his head, lingering slightly at the intoxicating smell of his shampoo, before pushing the both of them off the wall of the library. He brought Ralph's hand up to his lips, kissing each knuckle before letting icy blue eyes flick up to clear ones. His fair boy was grinning, a sweet smile that had Jack's heart melting as he enveloped the other in a tight embrace. Ralph's head rested on his chest as his arms wrapped around Jack's waist, holding them together like glue. He mumbled something unintelligible and Jack, much to his dismay, had to pull away to hear it again. Ralph's eyes looked content, almost drooped with sleepiness, but his smile was still wide and it made butterflies erupt in Jack's stomach._

 

“ _I just said that we should probably go to the cafe now.” The fair boy repeated. It took Jack a moment to comprehend what he was saying, having been so dumb struck and distracted that he had entirely forgotten the plan for their date. He recovered, but not quickly enough for his silence to go unnoticed. “Unless you're too hungover for me.” Ralph said, a grin in his words. Jack shook his head._

 

“ _Never.”_

 

__________

Ralph was having fun in London. It had been a while since he had gotten a get away with his friends, and what better place to do it than his favourite city? He had only ever been a handful of times, considering that he wasn't much of a traveler and Jack's job didn't allow either of them to be away for long periods of time, but there was always something so enthralling about the town. Still, he missed his husband. It had been a while since they had spoken, Ralph having been too busy with his mates to make a phone call and Jack not bothering to text him. There was a slight worry stuck in the back of his head that insisted his husband was cheating on him, that there was another man -or woman, knowing Jack- at _their_ flat, pleasing his husband with their tongue or lips or body. The idea made Ralph shudder and although he wasn't too worried about it, the thought still stuck to him, gnawing away at him like termites. Simon caught on to his mood quickly, making sure to always pull him aside and ask if he was okay. Ralph would always respond with an affirmative and plaster a false smile on his face to pretend that everything was alright. Simon didn't push, although none of the fair boy's efforts seemed to fool him, and Ralph was eternally grateful.Peter, on the other hand, always made a point to ask outright and angrily.

 

“I swear to God, Ralph, if he's doin' anything to hurt you-”

 

“Really, It's fine. Jack is a lot of things, but an adulterer isn't one of them.” Peter scrunched his nose in an expression that truly made him look like swine and Ralph had to do everything in his power to suppress his grin. Although he had never quite liked Peter's childhood nickname of “Piggy”, nor had he participated in the relentless teasing past primary school, he understood were the insults were coming from. His friend was rather fat, yes, but he resembled a a pig in other ways that Ralph had begun to notice over the years. His black eyes were beady and wide set, his nose wide and upturned like a snout, and his skin rosy flushed. That mixed with his tuft of unruly brown hair at the top of his head did nothing to help his case. However, Ralph quite liked Peter's company and he had always felt a little protective of the fat bloke, as if he would get himself in mass amount of trouble without the fair boy's help.

 

“Jack Merridew is a low life,” Peter went on, his face twisted in anger and Ralph tried his best to think of a way to derail the conversation without his friend noticing. “I wouldn't put infidelity past him.” Ralph pressed his lips together because, honestly, he _hated_ when his friend talked about his husband in such a way. He didn't understand what Peter could possibly gain from all this anger and hatred toward Jack, but he certainly wasn't in the mood for this conversation. Simon shot Peter a look, the words _Stop it. Now._ Written on his face, making the fat bloke clamp his mouth shut.

 

“Ralph,” Simon started, his tone soft and careful as he inched his hand closer to the fair boy's. Ralph accepted, grasping his friend's hand across the table. “I know you're having a difficult time trusting him right now, but I have a funny story that might help.” Ralph pursed his lips, letting his gaze fall from his friend's faces to the hands clasped together on the table. He took a deep breath.

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

__________

_Jack's return to the flat was greeted with an unsightly welcome. He had never intended to see Roger naked in his life time, nor had he ever intended to see Roger stark naked, kneeling behind an equally nude Simon, bent over their glass coffee table. He slammed the door shut, jarring both of their attentions toward him as his face twisted in disgust._

 

“ _Jesus_ Christ _,” he started, throwing his forearm over his eyes to shield his vision. He had been having a pleasant day up until that moment. Poor Simon's face was flushed bright red as he scurried toward the water room, a pile of clothes in his arms. “Can't you do that shit in your room?” He asked, impatiently. Roger grinned, pulling on his jeans and nothing else, leaving him bare chested and smug._

 

“ _Didn't enjoy the view, chief?” He asked. Jack scowled back at him._

 

“ _No amount of alcohol in the world could make me enjoy that view.” He said back and Roger's grin only widened. “I'm going to have to get a new coffee table, aren't I?” He watched in twisted horror as Roger laughed, running a hand through his messy black hair._

 

“ _Might as well replace the entire living room while you're at it.” Jack make a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as he made his way over to the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He heard the flick of a lighter with the strong scent of menthol filling the room soon after. “You interrupted something important, chief, this better be good.” Instead of smug and amused, Roger's voice sounded fairly annoyed and Jack had to roll his eyes in response. He slammed the fridge door shut, turning fully to his friend with a scowl etched in his face._

 

“ _My reason is that I live here and pay half the rent, good enough for you?” Roger rolled his eyes in response, slouching on the sofa as he took puffs of his cigarette. Simon emerged fully dressed and looking utterly mortified, his dark cheeks flushed bright red and his gaze fixated on the carpet._

 

“ _I, uh,” Jack would never get used to how soft that kid's voice was -so timid and quiet, as if everything made him nervous. “I should probably go.” Roger groaned in complaint, wrapping his free arm around Simon's waist and pulling him to his side. The smaller boy stumbled, landing on the sofa cushions with a surprised squeak that Jack might have found at least a little adorable if his mind wasn't so transfixed on Ralph._

 

“ _No need,” Jack grumbled, shooting Roger and annoyed look -to which the other boy just shrugged and smirked back. “I'll be off soon, just needed to talk to Rog for a bit.” Simon pressed his lips together but didn't argue, just scooted slightly away from Roger's grasp and settled awkwardly on the other end of the sofa. His delicate fingers picked at the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table as his gaze drifted to Roger, as if he was silently asking if it was okay for him to smoke one. Roger nodded, handing him the lighter before turning back to Jack. He raised his brows expectantly and Jack, suddenly remembering his purpose, grinned like an idiot back._

 

“ _I'm getting him a ring.” He announced, watching as Roger's face morphed between a amused and annoyed, before finally settling of irritation. He rubbed his eyes, allowing his head to hang low._

 

“ _Jesus Christ,” he said, sighing irritably. “Jack, you've been seeing this guy for what? Three months? What the hell makes you think he wants to marry you? You haven't even slept with the guy, for God's sake!” Simon placed his hand on Roger's shoulder and the two exchanged a look that Jack couldn't fully read._ Not in love, my ass _, he thought._

 

“ _Jack,” Simon started, his voice and tone careful, but a sweet smile on his face. “I think that's amazing.” Jack couldn't help but grin back. The small, dark, batty boy was ever the romantic, wasn't he? Well, Jack Merridew could certainly appreciate it. “But maybe you should let the relationship progress a bit more before doing anything drastic, don't you think? A proposal would be a bit bold at this point.”_

 

“ _Yes, thank you, exactly!” Roger exclaimed, which Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes to. “You hardly know the guy. At least fuck him first.” Simon clicked his tongue in distaste, his brows furrowing at his boyfriend's words._

 

“ _Sex isn't the most important part of a relationship,” he said and Jack had to keep himself from laughing at Roger's dumb struck face. “But, Roger has a point. If you're relationship hasn't even gotten serious enough for physical intimacy than there's a good chance he'll reject the proposal.” Jack wrinkled his nose, his brows furrowing in annoyance as he headed toward the door._

 

“ _You know what?” He said, hand hovering over the metal handle. “Fuck you. Fuck both of you. I couldn't give a shit what you think, I'm doing it. I'm going to get him a ring.” He slammed the door shut on his way out._

 

__________

Ralph sat still for a moment, his eyes trained on the twin metal bands around his left ring finger. He felt them well with the familiar burn of tears as Peter sat dumbstruck and Simon squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Jack knew he loved you, even back then.” He said, voice soft and careful, barely above a whisper. Ralph's eyes flicked to the smiling face of his friend as he tried to stop himself from crying. “And I don't think he stopped loving you since then. You're right, Ralph, Jack Merridew is a lot of things, but he's not an adulterer. Not when it comes to you, anyway.” The fair boy stayed quiet for a moment, unable to keep a few tears from spilling down his cheeks. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't seem to force any words around the awkward lump in his throat. He swallowed and tried again.

 

“Jack and Roger were friends?” His voice sounded quiet and alien, even to him. It was Simon's turn to be shocked as he sat back in his seat, blinking rapidly at the fair boy in front of him.

 

“I um,” he started, as if he had no idea how to answer the question. “I don't actually know. They were flatmates, but they never seemed very close and Roger just sort of stopped talking to or about him a few days before they graduated. Did Jack never mention him?” Ralph glanced at the floor brown drawn together in concentration as he tried to rack his brain for any mentions of Simon's boyfriend from his husband's lips.

 

“I knew he had a flatmate in uni,” Ralph said, slowly, carefully. “But I never knew who his name and we never met.” Simon pursed his lips, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

 

“I think they had a bad falling out. I'm not sure exactly because Roger refuses to talk about it, but they had some sort of fight I can't explain and then it was silence. Never saw each other again.” Ralph hummed, both to tell Simon that he was listening and to help gather his thoughts. Jack had a few mates that the fair boy had met a handful of times, but he was positive that Roger was not in that group. A curious part of him wondered what could've possibly happened that made them completely lose contact.

 

He ended up calling Jack when he got back to the hotel room, just to put his mind at ease. He wasn't sharing with this friends, luckily, which meant it was the perfect opportunity to have a privet conversation with his husband. He chewed anxiously at his thumbnail as he listened to the dial tone, his brows creased with each passing ring. Jack answered eventually, his voice gruff and slightly annoyed, as if Ralph was interrupting something.

 

“Hello?” He asked, like he didn't know who was calling or why they would bother him right before supper. Ralph pressed his lips together, suddenly wanting nothing more than to hang up and rejoin his friends before their meal. He took a deep breath, however, and charged forward.

 

“Hey love, just wanted to check in. How is everything at home?” He tried to make his voice sound cheery and light, even through the nerves that gnawed away at his stomach. Jack was quiet for a moment, just enough time for the fair boy to wary that perhaps this had been a mistake.

 

“Ralph,” he said, his voice deathly serious and it made the fair boy's stomach churn. “I'm going to need you to do something very important for me when you get home.” Ralph blinked, eyes widening in curiosity as he held his mobile just a bit tighter, only slightly closer to her cheek.

 

“Anything.” He said, his voice not brave enough to come out as anything more than a whisper.

 

“You've got to teach me how to cook because I've been ordering pizza for the past four days and it sickening.” Ralph couldn't contain his swell of relieved laughter as he allowed all the tension in his shoulders to release. He flopped back on the bed, his head hitting the mattress and his legs dangling off the edge. He allowed his free hand to run through his hair, making the golden blond strands stand up in a perfect quiff.

 

“You're _hopeless_ ,” he teased, listening to his husband's unamused huff on the other end of the line. “What would you ever do without me?” Jack snorted and Ralph could just imagine him crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back against their couch.

 

“Probably eat nothing but garbage for dinner and spend my days watching four seasons of _The Great British Bake Off_ in one sitting.” Ralph had to cup his hand over his mouth as his shoulder shook with laughter.

 

“Jack,” he started, still chuckling slightly under his breath. “That's horrible. You're going to become part of that couch if you spend any more time on it.” He heard his husband hum on the other end of the line, clearly amused.

 

“How's your trip going?” He asked and Ralph smiled softly at his husband's sweet tone. “Are you having fun?”

 

“I,” Ralph paused, thinking. Was he having fun? He liked seeing his mates, liked being in London, and liked having a few days to himself, without a home to tend to or worrying about jobs to apply for. He chewed the corner of his lip, fidgeting awkwardly. “Sort of. I miss you a lot.” He admitted, a sheepish grin on his lips. He wondered if Jack was smiling on the other end, that maybe he too was experiencing the same warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through Ralph's chest. “Peter's been complaining a lot. I think he's mad that we're still married.” Jack clicked his tongue and Ralph could picture him rolling his eyes.

 

“Of course Piggy's complaining, fat bloke hates my guts.” The fair boy grinned because, really, he couldn't argue. That would be horrifically dishonest.

 

__________

 _Jack's still not entirely sure how he managed to find himself in this position. He thinks that, perhaps, he's just the luckiest person in the world. Ralph withered under him, his sweet, golden-tanned face flushed red and his eyes squeezed shut. His nails dug into the skin of Jack's back, creating crescent shaped indents in the pale flesh. His lips roamed Ralph's neck, skin hot and sweet and he had to be careful to not mess this up. He's prone to intensity, getting too worked up in positions like these as he lets his animalistic side take over, ruling every thought in his mind. He didn't want that, didn't want to freak Ralph out because everything is still so new and fresh and fragile. So he chose to be gentle, his fingertips barely brushing against's Ralph's sides, his lips hardly skimming the warm skin- and it was difficult, because he wanted nothing more than to_ ravish _this boy, to sink his teeth and grip his hips and leave marks and bruises all over beautiful skin. Ralph whined, and it was probably the most magical sound Jack had ever heard. He tried to commit every breathy gasp and sweet, musical moan to memory, never to forget the magic of his fair boy's noises._

 

“ _Jack,” Ralph breathed, and Jack allowed himself to break away from the fair boy's neck in favour of looking into those clear blue eyes. The pupils are blown wide, lips parted as his chest heaved. He was beautiful, a diamond glittering in a sea of sludge and Jack knew in that moment that he would never be able to get enough. He hummed, leaning up to kiss those beautiful, full lips-  intoxicating and addictive. Ralph mewled, his hand cupping Jack's cheekbone, before reaching up to tangle in his hair, nimble fingers running through fiery red curls. “Take me.” He whispered, his voice soft and timid, as if he was afraid that Jack would reject his advances. He found himself dumbstruck for a moment, unable to process Ralph's words as he stared down into those clear blue eyes. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the words got caught in his throat, refusing to come out. Instead, he swallowed and nodded, dipping back down to place kisses along Ralph's jawline. The fair boy sighed, sinking down into the cushions of the sofa as he tilted his chin back, exposing Jack to as much of his skin as possible._

 

_He was lost in this boy, so wrapped up in every sight and touch and sound that the world around him started to disappear. Ralph's moans were heaven, his skin sunshine, and his kisses a drug; Everything about him was addictive and beautiful. Which was why he didn't notice, at first, when Ralph's flat mate stepped through the front door, keys jingling loudly in his fat hands and pig-like face twisted in an expression that was an ugly mix between surprise and disgust. Ralph, however, did hear the door opening, and he quickly sat up, making Jack smash the bridge of his nose against the fair boy's collarbone. He sat back on his knees, face grimaced in pain and he pressed his index and middle finger to the space Ralph had hit, rubbing slow, soft circles in the skin._

 

“ _Peter,” Ralph said, his face an embarrassed flush as he reached to tug on his shirt. Jack regarded the boy and instantly decided that he didn't like him. He was ugly and quite fat, with sausage like finger and a sweaty brow. His mouth was slightly open and he was breathing loudly from it, as if his disgustingly obese body couldn't survive from solely breathing through his ugly, squashed-looking nose. “I didn't know you'd be home so early.” Ralph's voice was a bit shaky, nervous and embarrassed, and Jack was torn between feeling prideful or sorry for the fair boy. The fat bloke looked over them, his eyes slowly taking in the situation he had just walked in on and Jack could practically see the gears turning in his fat little head. His jaw set, suddenly, and it took Jack a moment to realize why._

 

“ _Didn't realize you would be bringing degenerates home.” There was something high and mighty about the fat bloke's voice, a pretentiousness that made Jack's expression twist in a scowl. He remembered, alright, exactly why Ralph's flat mate seemed so taken aback by his presence, and frankly, he wasn't having it._

 

“ _Shut up, fatty.” He said before finally releasing his hold on his nose and rolling his shoulders back to sit up a bit straighter. He still had yet to recover his discarded shirt, but his jeans remained, hanging low on his hips to reveal a sliver of his underwear. Piggy's face burned bright red, his brown, beady eyes narrowing and his lips pressing together in a scowl. Ralph sat back for a moment, his thumb up to his mouth as he began nervously chewing at his nail. Jack had to resist the urge to slap his hand out of his mouth._

 

“ _Jack,” Ralph warned, his hand still up to his mouth, muffling his voice ever so slightly. “Leave him alone.” Jack rolled his eyes, but refrained from making another comment. His efforts were futile, however, for the tension, thick and hanging strongly in the air, didn't decrease. Ralph's voice was a salvation, sweet and angelic and doing everything in its power to calm Jack's nerves. “I'm sorry, Peter,” he said, turning to the fat bloke who wouldn't stop glaring at Jack. He noticed then that Ralph's face looked desperate and embarrassed, as if this was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen. He opened his mouth to start speaking again, but Piggy quickly interrupted him._

 

“ _You haven't changed a bit, have you, Merridew?” He asked and,_ Jesus _, his annoying voice hadn't changed one bit. Jack leaned back on his hands, his expression bored and arrogant, his nose tilted slightly in a pose that was oh so mightier-than-thou. His eyes flicked up to Piggy for just a moment, just enough time to take in his stony, angry expression, before letting his gaze fall back to Ralph, whom was much more interesting to look at._

 

“ _I have no idea what you're talking about.” He said, his voice a monotonous drone to prove just how disinterested he was in the conversation. It was a boldfaced lie because of course he remembered this fat sack of shit. Roger and he used to torment him relentless during primary school, calling him 'Piggy' and making crude oinking sounds. They would push him and kick him around, throw rocks at him until his ugly round glasses would fly off and he would cry. It was fun, really, seeing such an annoying little brat get what was coming to him and never once did Jack feel guilty about his actions. Granted, he hadn't thought about it since primary school. Clearly Piggy had._

 

“ _You're a pig.” He shot back, sounding much too offended and much too angry when Jack merely spoke eight little words._

 

_He grinned then, over come with a cruel idea that would hopefully leave the little brat red faced and upset. How he was so much fun to torment. He turned to Piggy, teeth bared and eyes glinting with a cruel light. Piggy took a step back, looking confused and slightly frightened. He snorted, a crude imitation of a piglet, and watched as Piggy's ugly, confused face twisted to annoyance. He snorted again, crouching on all fours as he leaped off the sofa, crawling toward the fat little coward like a predator. He continued to make ugly snorting noises, his grin only growing wider as Piggy's face grew more and more red with anger. “Oink with me, Piggy.” he taunted, snorting once, then twice as the fat boy stumbled. Ralph sat back, watching with wide eyes. “C'mon,” Jack continued, suddenly standing from his crouched position on the floor and backing Piggy into the corner of the room. “Squeal like a good little piglet.”_

 

“ _Jack!” Ralph shouted suddenly. Jack turned, brows raised as he took a step back, allowing Piggy a bit of breathing room. Ralph's hand was on his shoulder, dark blue eyes firm, with an angry sort of fire behind them. “That's enough; leave Peter alone.” Jack's jaw set, his gaze icy and cold as he stared down at the fair boy. Ralph stared right back, not intimidated and sure as hell not backing down. For once, Piggy stayed quiet, his common sense having got the better of him._

 

“ _Fine,” Jack spat, pushing his way past Ralph's shoulder and making him stumble. He grabbed his shirt off the floor, pulling it over his head almost viciously. “I'll be on my way.”_

 

 _Roger laughed when he got home. Jack was not quite as amused. “You git,” he said between fits of barking louder that made Jack have to hold back from punching him. “You've done it, you've really fucked everything up. What's your_ precious golden boy _gonna think of you now, eh?” Jack glowered, slumping down in the chair opposite to Roger's. He huffed, resting his chin in the palms of his hands to mope._

 

“ _Fuck off.”_

 

__________

Ralph didn't get home until midnight, only to find his husband sprawled out on the sofa, watching television. He grinned, shaking his head as he quietly shut the door behind him. Jack grinned back, propping himself up on his elbows and making a _come here_ gesture -one that Ralph happily followed. Jack swung his legs off the sofa, giving the fair boy space to sit down as he cuddle up next him, resting his head on Jack's shoulder and the flat of his palm on Jack's chest. He kissed the top of Ralph's head, wrapping his arm around the fair boy's shoulders to pull his body closer as their eyes stayed glued to the tele.

 

“Did you have fun?” Jack asked, his nose buried in Ralph's hair.

 

“Mm-hm,” he hummed back, snuggling closer to his husband. “But nothing beats being with you.” Jack scoffed before pressing another kiss to the crown of his husband's head.

 

“You're so sappy.”

 

__________

 _Jack felt uncomfortable like this, sitting on the edge of his own sofa, awkwardly making small talk with a friend of his boyfriend. Ralph had insisted they met, claiming that he didn't have a better mate from high school, that he couldn't think of anyone else he would rather have Jack meet. Of course, Jack complied, being such a sucker for those blue eyes and that blonde hair and that smile. So here he was, trying his best not to blow he brains out as he listened to Ralph and the boy whose name he already forgot chit-chat away about some nonsense he couldn't even pretend to follow. Apparently they played football together, or some rubbish that Jack would never understand. He was athletic enough -a fairly lean fellow with decent physical skills and an ability to participate in most physically demanding activities without falling behind, but he was never much of an_ athlete _, meaning that he never bothered with organized sports, nor did he have any theoretical knowledge on the good majority of them. He attempted to interject a few times, but there was nothing he could really add to the conversation that wouldn't make him seem like a complete idiot._

 

_Eventually, Ralph stood from his spot in the sitting room, stretching his arms over his head and slowly cracking his neck from side to side. He grinned when he was done, putting his hands on his hips in a stance that reminded Jack of a superhero. “I should be off then,” Ralph said, his eyes looking tired and drooping with fatigue. “You two will be alright on your own, yeah?” Oh. Right. That was something Jack had agreed to, wasn't it? Damn those blue eyes. He swallowed, realizing that eyes were on him to confirm that, yes, in fact, Ralph's friend could stay with him for the night until he caught his train to Manchester in the morning._

 

“ _Yeah, it'll be fine.” Jack said, trying to sound as casual as possible. In all truth, the entire situation annoyed him to no end. “Besides, my flat mate will be home eventually, so we won't really be alone.” Ralph grinned, his cute little dimples caving in and making his face look fresh and innocent. It made Jack's heart melt._

 

“ _Okay, good night.” He leaned in, pressing a chaste peck to Jack's lips that only made him want more. “I'll see you in the morning.”_

 

“ _Yeah, okay, see you.” He responded, going to give the fair boy another kiss but ultimately failing as Ralph quickly pulled away before he got the opportunity. He hugged his friend goodbye before pushing his way passed the front door. The silence that followed behind him was suffocating as jack awkwardly shifted in his seat before deciding to stand and get a glass of water from the kitchen._

 

“ _Ralphie sure is a pretty one, ain't he? You are one lucky fuck” That was another thing that annoyed Jack. Ralph's friend was nothing if not laddish._

 

“ _Yeah, I guess so.” He said, trying to sound as disinterested as possible. Although he did fully believe that his boyfriend was beautiful and he was the luckiest person alive to get to hold such a precious creature and call him_ mine _, Jack was in no mood to discuss it with said angel's best mate. As a matter of fact, he was in no mood to discuss_ anything _with Ralph's best mate._

 

“ _You know it won't last lad, right?” Jack felt every muscle in his being tense, his body frozen. His brows drew together as he began clutching his empty glass nearly tight enough to break it. He turned slowly, meeting the other man's eye._

 

“ _Excuse me?” He asked, a bit taken aback by just how dangerous his tone sounded. The other man did not back down._

 

“ _Ralphie goes through phases, y'know? Tall lads, fat blokes, ugly brunette lasses, bitches, sluts, scrawny fellows, nasty old hairy lads, and now you,” he paused, sizing Jack up with the most stupid look on his face, one that Jack wanted nothing more than to punch off. “The funny looking ginger. But nothing ever lasts. He and whoever he's dating eventually brake up and a lonely little Ralphie comes crawling back to his best mate.” He held both his thumbs out to himself and Jack had to use his free hand to grip the counter top behind him. “And I always get a piece of that arse.”_

 

“ _Are you telling me this to psyche me out and some how ruin my relationship, or are you just stupid?” Jack shot back, unable to hold back the rage that burned in his eyes. The other man stood from his spot on the couch, shaking his head in mock pity as he made his way over to Jack. He placed his hand on Jack's shoulder, his gaze patronizing and arrogant, making the other seethe with white hot hatred._

 

“ _I'm just warning you, lad. You've gotta be prepared for whenever I decide to swoop in and take Ralphie back for myself. See, you don't stand a chance.” Something snapped, then, making Jack's vision blur as he ripped the other man's hand off his shoulder, twisting it until it was pinned behind his back and shoving him against the edge of the counter. The man let out and awkward wheeze of breath as Jack stood behind him, holding his arm at a painful angle. He tugged the man's hair, yanking it into his fist as he slammed the other's face against the granite, his anger and rage and hate boiling in his bloodstream. The other man coughed, a splotch of blood coming out of his mouth and landing on the counter top. There was something about that dribble of blood, that little patch of red that only seemed to fuel Jack on more as he slammed the man's face into the counter top again, over and over, holding him still as he yelled and howled in pain. Eventually, he stopped struggling._

 

_Jack could see clearly again as he released his hold on Ralph's friend, dropping his lifeless body and watching it crumble to the floor. His face was indented and smeared with red liquid, the kind that make Jack want to retch. And of course, it was at that moment, that Roger came home, his first greeting being the sight of Jack standing over the lifeless body of a stranger, face indented and smothered in blood. Roger stared, but his facial expression didn't convey horror, but rather curiosity. He took a step further inside, closing the door behind him as he examined the body from a distance. Jack didn't speak because what could he possibly say in such a situation? Finally, Roger's gray eyes flicked up to him in a look that was nothing but knowing._

 

“ _Explain.” He demanded, although he didn't sound angry or horrified or even disgusted, like Jack would expect him to. Instead, his voice held nothing but neutrality. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He cleared his throat before trying again._

 

“ _He' is -was- Ralph's friend. He-” Jack's voice faltered again, but Roger held up his hand to stop him. He came closer to the body, squatting down to examine it from a shorter distance. His eyes glistened with something Jack couldn't read._

 

“ _That's a lot of blood,” he murmured, reaching out to touch the red substance. He ran his fingers through the pool that was beginning to stain their kitchen tiles, staring at it in fascination. “Pretty face, too. Or, what must've been pretty before your dumb ass smashed it in.” Jack let out a long breath, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to process everything that was happening._

 

“ _Better looking than my ugly mug.” He said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Roger's eyes flicked up toward him, his expression unreadable, as always._

 

“ _It was jealousy, wasn't it?” Damn him._

 

“ _Yeah.” Jack said, unable to look his friend in the eye. Roger nodded, slowly standing from his place before carefully stepping over the body to wash his hands in the sink._

 

“ _I'll help you out with this.” He said, so casually that Jack had to pause for a moment before he realized what Roger was saying. “But,” he began again, shaking the excess water off his hands. “After this, we can't be associated. We were never friends or flat mates or even acquaintances. We don't know each other. It's the only way I can help you.” He held out his hand, still beaded with moisture as he stared into Jack's eyes, expression deathly serious. “Deal?” He asked. Jack swallowed, hesitating as his eyes flicked between Roger's extended hand and his unnerving gray eyes._

 

“ _Deal.”_

 

__________

Ralph shifted against his side, his body warm and soft and everything Jack missed. His blue eyes gazed up at him, beautiful and clear as he pressed a kiss to Jack's jawline. “Any new murders while I was gone?” He asked, his tone teasing.

 

“One,” Jack said, unable to take his eyes off the television screen. He pressed his lips together, unsure if he should continue. He swallowed. It was time. “Actually, I need to tell you something.”

 

In that moment, Jack Merridew was certain that his husband's innocent, questioning look would be the death of him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to level with you guys: This chapter is really short. I know you're probably thinking "But Eloise, it took you forever to write this one. Why would it be so short?" And admittedly, it was because I had a difficult time getting through it. the entire writing process was an uncomfortable one for me because there is some heavy stuff in this. I didn't end up writing sin in this chapter like I had promised because I couldn't bring myself to. This is probably one of the darkest things I've ever written, which includes the actual murder scene in chapter two because it contains heavy amounts of emotional manipulation, consent issues, and other dubious activities. However, this is probably one of the most important chapters to Jack's character development and although I initially had a lot more planned for this, I felt as though I, as a writer, would be sacrificing a few of my own morals to continue. Still, I care about my readers and my story enough to not scrap the entire thing and start anew on something light and fluffy that wouldn't stay true to my vision. Having said that, there's a heavy trigger warning on this chapter for psychological abuse, manipulation, and consent issues.

 

Jack couldn't help the lump forming in his throat as those beautiful, dark blue eyes stared up at him in wonder. He felt his heart rate pick up, pounding against his sternum in an erratic rhythm that left his breathing slightly uneven. Ralph only cuddled closer to him, his cute, upturned nose nuzzling against Jack's shoulder as he placed sweet kisses along his tricep. Jack's fingers idly played with the hem of his husband's t-shirt, running up and down the exposed sliver of skin, showing off just the smallest bit of his slim waist. His hand cupped Jack's face as his lips planted themselves onto his cheek in a soft, open mouthed kiss. He was being oddly affectionate, Jack noticed, considering it wasn't often that Ralph would be this _sweet_ whenever they stayed huddled together. Generally, he was far more prone to mischief and banter, often choosing to snark playfully in place of quietly snuggle together.

 

“What is it?” The fair boy whispered against the shell of Jack's ear, his breath warm and the soft sound of his voice sweeter than honey. Jack pressed his lips together, his fingers suddenly tightening around his husband's waist as he stared ahead, eyes fixed on the television screen. He ran his tongue over his lips in thought before finally turning his gaze to that sweet, sickly beautiful fair boy at his side.

 

“Do you want to hear about the newest murder case?” He asked and watched as a curious light sparked in Ralph's eyes. He sat up a bit straighter, placing on hand on Jack's shoulder and pressing their sides flush together. He grinned, a wide, almost innocent smile that made Jack's heart weigh down with guilt. He cupped Ralph's face, reveling in the soft, smooth skin underneath his calloused fingers as he pressed the tips of their noses together.

 

“A prostitute was found hanging in a hotel near my office.” He dropped his voice down to an excited whisper, awkwardly using his free hand to grab the remote and turn off the television. Ralph's eyes sparkled with something unreadable, something beyond joy or curiosity.

 

“That close to you, huh?” He asked, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck. Jack's lips twitched, eyes widening with a sick, twisted form of humor. A piece of him felt wrong, dirty, as if he shouldn't have opened his mouth at all. But the other felt exhilarated. Finally, someone would get to appreciate his work.

 

“Yeah,” he said, trying to match that same devious light in his eyes as Ralph had in his own. “Poor thing was hanging from a telephone cord she found in the room with her wrists slit vertically and her eyes sliced up, still in her skull.” He stroked the fair boy's cheek, watching in fascination as the light died down, replacing itself with a look of confusion. “She was so pretty, Ralph, you wouldn't believe it. Blonde, dark blue eyes,” he let his fingers slide down Ralph's face, catching his bottom lip under his thumb. “So young, too.” He said, not taking his eyes away from his husband's lips. “Only nineteen, can you believe it? She was practically a child. She should've been in university, doing something with her life. But she looked so much like you. I swear, she could've been your sister.” Jack paused, glancing back up at those dark blue eyes, now wide and fearful and only seeming to make him bark out a crazed laugh. “I couldn't have that.” He felt his hands shake. Or maybe that was Ralph's body, quivering under his touch.

 

“Jack,” he whispered, his voice choked, as if he were trying to hold back a sob. “Jack, please.” He was begging, Jack realized, which seemed silly. Why would he beg? Surely he knew Jack wouldn't hurt him, surely he was aware that he did all this for Ralph -for _them_.

 

“Say my name again,” Jack was momentarily surprised at how desperate his voice sounded, but he couldn't keep himself from pleading. He needed to treasure this, to make sure his husband knew just how much he loved him. Ralph tried to move away, tried to jerk out of Jack's grip, but let out a cry of pain as his husband's hand tightened into his golden blond hair, keeping him in place. His other hand clamped down around Ralph's waist, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “Please Ralph, I just want to hear your voice.” The fair boy's lips were parted, his breath heaving and shaky, as if it served as a physical manifestation of his terror. Jack briefly wondered if he should have felt more guilty about this, if perhaps a normal person would have just let Ralph go. But there was something about that look -that fearful, dear in headlights expression- that only seemed to spur Jack on. He felt a rush of power course through his veins, as if this boy wrapped in his arms, shivering and scared and pathetic, was his pray.

 

“Why,” Ralph tried to say, but his voice caught in his throat. Jack stared at him, wide-eyed, and tried not to let his anger take over at the way his husband seemed to wince at his gaze. He cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter and shifting his weight as much as he could. “Why do you know all this?” Jack was quiet for a moment, briefly taken aback by the question, before he let out another bark of laughter, knowing full well that every sound he made sounded deranged -disturbing. In that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, he took Ralph's chin between he thumb and forefinger, forcing his head up in a motion that was perhaps a bit too rough, his touch possibly too harsh.

 

“Ralph,” he murmured, leaning in close enough for their lips to brush together. He tried to ignore the way Ralph's trembled, how the breath that had once brushed his cheek had stopped entirely, how it was clear that the fair boy wanted nothing to do with him. “You're horribly dense, you know that?” He smirked at the embarrassed flush that crossed his husband's cheeks, stroking his soft skin lovingly. “I don't blame you. People don't notice the things they don't want to, and who would want to see the things I've done?” He bit the corner of his lip, realizing that with each vision of fear that crossed those pretty blue eyes, the hungrier Jack seemed to become. He wanted him, not only for his body and those beautiful little noises he always made, but for his love and his understanding. He wanted Ralph to see they way he saw, to feel the way he felt. Instead, the fair boy jerked his face away, wriggling his body in a desperate attempt to escape Jack's grasp.

 

“You're mental.” Ralph whispered, his voice shaking with fear. “You're going to kill me, aren't you?” Jack blinked, not necessarily surprised by that statement, but a bit taken aback from hearing it out loud. Why couldn't Ralph seem to understand?

 

“Kill you,” Jack echoed, the words feeling heavy and bitter on his tongue. He shook his head. “I love you.” Ralph's lip quivered, his fingers shook. He looked like a a small pray, a little creature made to be taken advantage of. A rabbit, perhaps? “Don't you love me?” Jack continued, well aware that he was pleading for forgiveness, for acceptance.

 

“I,” Ralph's voice shook, his eyes unable to meet Jack's gaze. “I don't know any more.” Jack stared. Ralph only stared back, his eyes terrified and glistening with tears. “Can anyone love a murderer?” His lips twitched into an awkward smile, a scoff of bitter realization, as if he couldn't seem to think of a concept more ridiculous. Jack cupped his face in both hands, forcing him to meet his eyes.

 

“I did this for you, for us. All those people- it was like they were cheap imitations of you, trying to fool me -to tempt me because they knew that I wouldn't be able to resist someone as perfect as you. But none of them deserved it, none of them deserved to even look like you, much less _be_ you.” He waited for a response, for anything to indicate his beautiful golden boy's forgiveness, but it never came. “You are my ultimate temptation, Ralph. You were made for me to chase after for the rest of my life, to want and to love and cherish. You _belong_ to me.” Ralph's gaze cast downward, his eyelashes fluttering as he tried to blink back tears. Still, Jack saw as they rolled down soft, round cheeks.

 

“I can't,” his whispered, and Jack couldn't help but feel anger bubble within him at just how _weak_ his husband sounded. He felt his grip on the fair boy clamp down, hard enough for a pathetic whimper to escape the fair boy's lips. “I,” he tried to speak again, but his voice shook and faltered, his eyes beginning to rim red with tears. There was something about all that fear, all that loss of power and control, that made Jack feel prideful -a sense of worth filling him at the concept that _he_ did that, that _he_ held that sort of power over another person.

 

“Speak, goddammit.” He heard it in his voice, the annoyance that was harsh enough to be mistaken for rage. He heard it and yet he couldn't care to correct it. Ralph whimpered, shrinking back and trying to make himself look as small as possible. Jack couldn't stop the maniacal grin from stretching his lips. There was no point in trying to be gentle now, no purpose behind feigning pity or trying to use soft, comforting words. Perhaps he would get the best result out of dominance and harshness. Ralph was always weak to obey under such circumstances. The fair boy swallowed visibly, his slight adam's apple bobbing with the motion.

 

“Jack,” everything in his voice sounded cautious, as if he were trying to speak and move slowly to avoid fatal collision. “I can't do this.” It was like a weight crushing Jack's shoulders, making his body crumble to the ground. The words echoed in his head on repeat, tearing through his mind with its wicked claws and pointed teeth. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder just exactly what it was he had expected for Ralph to say. In an ideal world, the fair boy would understand, would jump in his arms and smash their mouths together and whisper how much he loved him, but Jack knew that, reasonably, that wasn't realistic. Still, the expected reaction hurt- shook him to his very core. And, oh, of course, Ralph wasn't done. “I'm terrified. It feels like my world just flipped upside down. I,” he paused again, and Jack didn't have the heart to scold him -couldn't find it within himself to yell or scream or beg or plead. Instead, he stayed perfectly quiet. “I don't even know who you _are._ ” Maybe he did have the heart to yell.

 

Jack stood then, positioning his grip to clamp around Ralph's bicep as he forced him up as well. The fair boy yelped, a noise that filled Jack with an arrogant pride, a thought that his husband was powerless, a victim ready to succumb to any and all of Jack's desires. He knew that his gaze was icy, cold and terrifying, solely because of the way Ralph looked at him, blue eyes wide in terror. He leant in, head cocked slightly to the side, the perfect angle to brush their lips together. “I'll tell you, then.”

 

Ralph's breath hitched when their lips met, the kiss hungry and rough with so much heat behind it that the action could have easily been perceived as rage. Jack walked them back, Ralph stumbling awkwardly over his own two feet as his palms laid flat against his husband's chest. The noises he was making -those cute, perfect little noises- were more of muffled protest than moans of desire. Jack felt a slight pang of guilt rush through his mind, but quickly disregarded it. Ralph would want him. Jack would make absolute sure of that. He stopped when Ralph's back was pressed against the wall, his body squirming as a desperate plea to be released, which only seemed to annoy him. Why didn't Ralph want him? Why didn't he _understand?_

 

When they broke away, they both were breathing heavily, breath mixing together and chests heaving with pent up desire and frustration and fear. Jack grinned, a wicked, awful, terrifying smirk as he let out a short, humorless laugh, head bowed at the perfect angle to sink his teeth into his husband's shoulder. “Maybe it isn't about you, after all.” He mused aloud. He lifted his head once again, meeting those wide blue eyes. “Maybe I just like this, like the power I hold over them all, seeing the fear in their eyes.” his thumb stroked over Ralph's cheek and he tried to ignore the way the fair boy cringed at his touch. “But nothing beats you. God, Ralph, the things you do to me.” He pushed his hips against Ralph's, grinding against him in rough, desperate circles. His husband mewled, a strangled sound that was a mix between a cry of pleasure and a cry for help.

 

“Please,” he begged. “Please, don't hurt me.” Jack's grin only stretched wider as he dipped his head down, biting harshly. He had to suppress the ironic bit of laughter bubbling up in his throat at the fair boy's sweet yelp of pain.

 

“Hurting you has never been a problem before, has it Ralphie?” He asked, his tone teasing -almost mocking. He let his hand slip between them, palming at the bulge forming in his husband's pants and almost purring to find that he was already half hard. “You're a little masochist, aren't ya? Always asking me to spank you and tie you up, fuck you so hard you can't walk for the next few days. And you take it so well, you know that? Such a good little slut.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Ralph's neck before sinking his teeth into the skin, the sound of his husband's gasp going straight to his dick.

 

“Stop, please.” Stop? Jack didn't understand the meaning of the word. He glanced up at Ralph, meeting his eyes for a moment.

 

“Why would you want me to stop?” He asked, watching as the fair boy sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing flicking upward to avoid Jack's own. “You're already so hard for me.” He squeezed Ralph's cock through his pants, as if to emphasis his point. The fair boy cried out, curling his fingers into the fabric of Jack's shirt as tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes all over again.

 

“I don't want this.” His voice caught in his throat and he still wouldn't meet Jack's eye. Why wouldn't he meet Jack's eye? “I need space, please, just let me go.” It was so cute, the way he begged. Almost convincing. But Jack knew better.

 

“Why are you crying?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. He cupped Ralph's cheek in his hand, brushing away a tear with the pad of his thumb. “You know I'd never hurt you, I love you. I want what's best for you -for us. I just want to make you feel good.” Ralph bit the corner of his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as if he were trying to stop the tears. He took a deep breath through his nose before exhaling loudly through his mouth. He cracked his eyes open, his gaze flicking to Jack's face with a pleading look.

 

“Jack, please.” His voice was so soft when he whimpered, so powerless and meek. Jack couldn't help himself, couldn't stop his body from reacting to the fair boy's sweet little noises as he nosed at the skin on Ralph's neck, nuzzling there as lovingly as he could manage.

 

“I love when you beg like that.” He whispered into his husband's skin before pressing a kiss there. Ralph made an odd humming sound, his body shifting awkwardly under Jack's touch as his hands pushed into Jack's chest, almost forcefully. He ran his palms up Ralph's sides, skimming the fabric of his shirt with only the tips of his fingers, trying to be as soothing and gentle as possible as he pressed another kiss to the fair boy's neck, drowning in the sound of Ralph's terrified little whimper. Every muscle in the fair boy's body had gone sense, quivering with each of Jack's movements, each little touch or brush of skin. The rigidness in his core had Jack growling, pushing his body back against Ralph's until his back hit the wall with a loud _thump_ and he howled in a mix of surprise and pain. Jack's fingers tightened around his wrists, pinning them above his head to leave his precious golden boy powerless and at his disposal. Everything in Jack felt flush with anger and betrayal and heated lust. He would mark his little ray of sunshine, use him up until there was nothing left and still take more and more and _more._ And Ralph would love him, would finally understand why he did what he did, would hold him and press kisses to fiery red curls and tell him everything would be okay. And if not, well, Jack had a plan for that outcome, too.

 

“I missed you while you were away.” He purred, his voice sharp, an almost threatening menace behind his words. Ralph gasped, a sharp intake of breath that he continued to hold in anticipation. “When you were off with Piggy and the batty kid. When you went away with out me.”

 

“Simon and Peter.” Ralph murmured, his eyes darkening with an expression of annoyance. In a moment, a look of realization crossed his face, his brows drawing together as he snapped his head in Jack's direction, dark blue eyes searching for some sort of explanation. “You know Roger.” He said suddenly, which took Jack aback. It had been years since he'd even thought of Roger, even spoken to the person who had once been his best friend. He loosened his grip around Ralph's wrists as he took a small step back. Ralph wriggled free of his grasp entirely, but he didn't make an attempt to escape. His eyes looked calculating, sharpness replacing the fear they had once held.

 

“I did.” Jack said. “Years ago.” Ralph studied him a moment longer, leaning forward just enough for their chests to press flush together once again. He stroked his thumb over the sharp curve of Jack's cheek bone before tucking a stray red curl behind his ear.

 

“Simon said you used to be friends.” His voice had gone softer, dropping down to something that was almost a whisper as he pressed their faces closer together, standing on the balls of his feet to reach up to Jack's height. “What happened?” _What happened?_ Why would Ralph want to know something like that? Why would he care? Jack shook his head, as if trying to shake out all the thoughts running through his mind. He allowed his hands to rest on Ralph's waist, the pads of his thumbs idly stroking the divots of his husband's hipbones. Jack opened his mouth to answer, but was quickly interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, causing both of their heads to snap in that direction. Cautiously, Jack detangled himself to Ralph, making his way over to the coffee table where it was placed. He blinked at the caller id, not quiet believing it.

 

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, if you guys have any requests for things you might want me to write next, you can submit them in the comments or at my tumblr: http://merribitch-at-castlerock.tumblr.com/


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